


Slides of Stars

by Mjazilem



Series: Slides of Stars [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU, All Human, Alternate Universe - Professors, Asexual Character, Disabled Character, Disabled Crowley, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Aziraphale, Slow Burn, Whump, nonbinary characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 59,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mjazilem/pseuds/Mjazilem
Summary: “Excellent, welcome back to St. Terrence Professor Phell.”Zira grins from ear to ear. “Thank you, thank you Dean!”“Ha, alright, you go and settle in, the staff will be meeting at noon in the conference hall in the administration building so everyone can meet our newest professors.”“Professors?  Who else is coming on?”“Another young man, he also attended school here you might remember Anthony Crowley.”Crowley?  Zira didn't remember the name maybe when he saw him he would recognize his face.orZira Phell is a new literature professor at St. Terrence.  He's not the only new teacher.   Anthony J. Crowley is an intriguing young man with a mysterious past that keeps unfolding.  As the mystery comes to light  Zira finds he loves teaching and he loves Crowley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in 1927 because I wanted it to be historical but it's kind of historical in the way 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' is it doesn't stick to Historical accuracy with Sexism, Homophobia, Racism etc... There is Ableism as part of the angst in the story.

This Story was inspired by Doctor Who episode 3x08 'Human Nature' and [This Photomanip](https://kerriss.tumblr.com/post/186502597387/will-you-take-your-glasses-off-for-the-picture)

August 1927

Zira sits outside the Assistant Dean's office. He'd just arrived back at his old alma mater St. Terrence. Classes are to start within the week and he is taking over the first year literature course. He's very exited to get to do what he loves in a place that he loves.

He is waiting for the Assistant Dean so he can get his keys and necessary paperwork.

At the moment Assistant Dean Etron is in his office with someone. The door is closed but whoever is inside with the Dean Etron is talking quite loudly, every once in awhile Zira can hear exclamations through the door.

It seems to Zira they are not pleased about something or someone.

He tries to waits patiently. He checks his watch again. It's still early.

Finally the door opens.

“I assure you everything will be fine this semester Michael. We have a quality staff, Sandalphon will be well looked after.”

“This isn't the last we'll talk Assistant Dean. You've not given me a satisfactory answer. I am not happy about that man being here.”

“Your concerns have been noted, I will let the Dean know. Have a good day, Michael.”

Zira watches from his seat as Assistant Dean Etron parts ways with who Zira recognizes as a former student a couple years ahead of him in school.

Michael must be a parent of a student now. He can't imagine what could have them so upset.

“Professor Phell” Zira hears his name and startles out of his musings.

“Dean!” He exclaims and then composes himself. He stands, clears his throat and brushes his hair out of his eyes . He can't help but feeling bashful. “I mean to say, good morning Dean Etron.”

Etron chuckles and holds out his hand to shake Zira's. “It's good to see you again Mr. Phell, we're glad you agreed to join us this school year.”

“Thank you Dean Etron.”

“Certainly, come into my office lets get you squared away.”

Zira picks up his suitcase and briefcase and follows.

“If everything alright Dean? I couldn't help but notice Michael...”

“Oh yes, yes nothing to worry about. Parents can get worked up before the school years start, a bit reactionary if you ask me. It happens from time to time. Things get blown out of proportion. I'm sure everything will calm down once the semester starts.”

“Of course.” Zira still can't help but feel uneasy, he tries to chalk it up to starting his new job, his new life today.

Dean Etron pulls a set of keys out of a desk drawer. “These are to the apartment above the library, Professor Den did leave some of his books and things, said he didn't need them to retire to the country. I'm sure you'll be able to get the place sortied in no time.”

Zira takes the keys. He feels like he's been given the keys to the castle. Nest he's handed papers.

“There's your classroom assignment and class rosters and this is the paperwork we have on file for you, check that over, make sure it's all correct and sign at the bottom.”

Zira takes his time to look over the paperwork, it is hard to concentrate. He's so eager to get started. He signs the papers and hands them back.

“Excellent, welcome back to St. Terrence Professor Phell.”

Zira grins from ear to ear. “Thank you, thank you Dean!”

“Ha, alright, you go and settle in, the staff will be meeting at noon in the conference hall in the administration building so everyone can meet our newest professors.”

“Professors? Who else is coming on?”

“Another young man, he also attended school here you might remember Anthony Crowley.”

Crowley? Zira didn't remember the name maybe when he saw him he would recognize his face.

“He'll be taking over Art history and one of Professor Luther's Astronomy classes.”

“That's an interesting combination pf specialities.”

“Yes, we were very lucky to find someone who could fill in where we needed.”

Zira nods. “Very fortuitous.”

“Yes well, go drop your bags and I'll see you at noon.”

“Noon sharp.” Zira says his thank yous and departs.

* * *

He is so excited he could have skipped across the campus. He settles for walking quickly across the grounds bags in hand to the library.

But before he can reach the building two men appear and start shouting in his direction.

“You there stop!” One says and then the other.

Zira turns confused and not a little upset about how they are speaking. “Who me?”

“Yes you, who else do you see here right now? Who are you?” One man, the shorter of the two who wore a green suit and a brown hat asks in his face.

“Yeah who?” The taller man following closely repeats

“I, I'm a new teacher here, Mr. Phell, I've just come from Assistant Dean Etron's office and I'm heading to the library. Who might you be?” Zira tries to defuse the situation with politeness.

“I'm asking the questions.” The shorter man says sternly. “How do we know you're a new teacher? We don't know ya.”

“No, well the Assistant Dean said I'd meet the rest of the staff today at noon. I suppose we were to meet than.”

“We'll have to take this up with the Assistant Dean, come with us.” The shorter man says and the taller man moves as if he's going to grab Zira's arm.

Zira shrinks back uncertain about these men. “But I've just come from there and I'm headed to the library to put my things away. See I've got the key...” Zira holds up the keys Dean Etron gave him.

“I don't know... Hastur does that look like your key to the library, it doesn't look like mine?”

“No Ligur I don't think it does.” The man eyes get wide and seem a little off to Zira.

“Well it... it, it's to the apartment.” Zira sputters and shift his weigh from foot to foot nervously.

“Give him a break gentlemen.” A voice comes from Zira's left turning he sees a young man sauntering up in a dark suit and dark glasses.

“Butt out, Crawly.” The shorter man spits out.

“It's Crowley and no, leave him be, you've had your fun.” Crowley comes to stand next two Zira, “This would be Hastur and Ligur heads of grounds and security respectively. They gave me the same song and dance when I got here yesterday.”

The two men, Hastur and Ligur glare at Crowley. Ligur speaks in a tone that concerns Zira. “Watch yourself. You'll miss step one of these days.”

“Yeah, thinks he's so flash, Watch yourself _Professor_.” Haster says darkly as he follows Ligur's lead and walks away.

Zira stands with Crowley and watches while the other two men walk down the side walk and around the corner.”

Zira lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding “Should we be concerned about them?”

“Ngk... I think they like to mess with the newbies.”

“Crowley, you're the other new teacher.” Zira is a little surprised by his appearance besides the dark glasses that hide his eyes, he's quiet young with longish hair in quite a distinct color of auburn. He has a lithe frame, frankly he's skinny as a rail. He's standing with his hands in his pockets sort of and hips... he's all hips. Very much not what Zira remembers his professors looking like.

“Anthony J. Crowley and you're... Phell, was it.”

“Oh yes Zira Phell, literature.”

“It's nice to meet you, Zira Phell literature. I'll see you at the meeting and then quite a bit after that I'm sure.” Crowley smirks and continues walking in the direction he was heading before he stopped for Zira.

“Yes, hum thank you, thank you for your help.”

“Don't mention it.” Crowley waves over his shoulder without looking back and strolls off in the direction of the admin building.

Zira composes himself for the second time today and continues on to the library and his new apartment.

He'd been to the library many many times as a student. It was one of his favorite places on campus, it and the kitchen. He'd never, in all his years here been above the library.

Now he opens the door to the apartment around the back of the building and finds a wide dark staircase, there are twelve steps up and then a landing and five more steps up to another door.

Zira opens the second door and finds what could be heaven as far as he's concerned.

Soft morning light filters in through old windows. The room he's standing in is cozy with a chair and couch and a pleasant looking little fireplace. All around the room are shelves and shelves of books.

* * *

Zira has a hard time pulling himself away from his new apartment but he does and he makes it to the meeting just as things are starting.

“Ah, there he is...” Dean Etron stands at the head of the conference hall table. “Lets all take our seats.”

Zira looks around the long table and sees that Crowley is already seated next to the head of the table and he has an empty chair next to him. Zira quickens his pace to get there before any of the other staff can. “Is this seat taken?”

“Nope, all yours.” Crowley pops his 'p' as he all but lounges back in his chair.

Zira takes the seat with thanks and Dean Etron starts the meeting.

“Welcome everyone, Welcome back for the new semester. Let me first apologize on behalf of the Dean, she regrets she won't be able to make our meeting but I know I speak for her when I say It's shaping up to be an exciting and rewarding year! Now we'll get introductions out of the way and then get to lunch.”

The Assistant Dean directs the most senior staff to to start, so Professor Luther stands and introduces himself and says he's a teacher of the sciences. Then introductions continue around the table, everyone in turn standing and greeting the rest. Some of the older teachers Zira remembers from when he was a student.

When it's Zira's turn he practically jumps up.

His chair makes a loud scraping noise on the floor as he does. “Oh, oh my sorry about that. Ah, I'm Zira Phell, for those who didn't have me as a student. I went here a long time ago, when I was a youth, or rather hum, younger, I dare say I'm still young, comparatively, oh not compared to any of you!” Zira stops rambling and clears his throat. “I will be teaching first year literature this semester. Come see me if you want to debate the subject of Shakespeare's sonnets.”

There are a few chuckles and Zira accepts them graciously and takes his seat.

“Thank you Professor Phell. And lastly...” He turns to Crowley.

Zira expects Crowley to stand. Instead he just leans forward up to the table properly.

Zira is also surprised to see he's not removed his glasses.

“I'm Crowley, Anthony J. Crowley. I'll be teaching art history and some astronomy this semester.” He doesn't elaborate, doesn't mention that he was once a student, just leaves it at that and sits back.

Zira can see some of the other teachers and staff looking quizzically in Crowley and the Assistant Dean's directions. Hastur and Ligur on the other end of the table look particularly put off.

Dean Etron does not seem phased. “Thank you everyone. Go ahead and enjoy.” He gestures to the sideboard and they are dismissed to get food.

Everyone starts to move towards the table along the wall that was been set up with, from what Zira can see, sandwiches and cheeses and fruit and cakes.

He starts to move too to get in line but he notices that next to him Crowley isn't. “Are you eating?” Zira asks.

“Yeah, I just figure I'll let the line die down first.” Zira can see it has gotten fairly long.

“That's not a bad idea.” He settles in his seat again, but faces Crowley. “So the Assistant Dean said that you went to school here too... we must be close in age, did we have any classes together?”

“No, I don't think so.” Crowley drapes his arm over the back of his own chair back. Somehow lounging more than before, it's particularly startling because he's dressed in a suit and tie just like Zira's teachers when he was a student, but he couldn't imagine any teacher of his sitting in such a manner.

Zira furrows his brow trying hard to place the man in front of him. He feels like he would remember.

“What year did you graduate?”

“I didn't, not from here that is.”

“Oh you transferred.”

“Hum...” He makes a sound in agreement but doesn't go so far as to confirm it out loud before changing the subject. “Looks like the line's shifted.”

“Oh so it has.” Zira jumps up, not wanting to waste another moment where he might miss out on a tasty cucumber sandwich or petit four. “I'm positively famished!”

Crowley still hasn't moved from his chair. “Go on, I'll get mine in just a moment.” Crowley waves him on.

Zira goes but he feels guilty. He doesn't want to be rude.

He's not sure exactly what would be rude in this situation. He doesn't feel quite right about leaving the other newbie. But if the other newbie told him to go it wasn't like he was abandoning him to the wolves or anything.

Zira looks back at the table and sees the Assistant Dean speaking with Crowley. So he was fine. Zira had hoped they would hit it off and could have been the social support for one another. Zira always felt awkward at these things particularly when he really didn't know most of the people.

Soon he is distracted by the buffet. He moves his way down the table and takes a bit of everything he sees.

“Anything good?” Crowley slides up beside him.

“Oh, I think it all looks good.”

Crowley nods and takes an apple and a half a sandwich for himself. Zira is about to suggest he take a raspberry tart as they look particularly good but Zira is tapped on his shoulder and he finds Professor Nelson eager to talk with him. She goes so fas as to take his arm as they walk back to the table. She tells him she'd teaching Medieval history just as she did when Zira had her.

'The poor students' he thinks to himself.

By the time he's finished chatting and eating his lunch Professor Crowley is gone.

Zira had wanted to say something to him, just to be polite and friendly of course. Maybe he would catch up with him tomorrow.

Right now Zira figures it's about time to get back to his apartment and all the new books he has to look through.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Professors set up their classrooms and get ready for their first day of school

The next morning Zira gets into his classroom. It's just as he remembers. He thinks he definitely had a class in this room as a student. There are the same rows of desks and big chalk boards at the front of the room.

It is just what he wanted his classroom to be.

He checks his supplies, chalk and textbooks. Everything seems to be in order. He'll bring some of his own books in later for reference. For now he's satisfied.

He makes his way downstairs. Students are starting to arrive today. He can see them through the windows tugging trunks across the grounds to their dorms.

He decides to walk around the academics building and explore before everything starts up tomorrow.

He knows this building holds the majority of the classrooms. The faculty lounge is on the second floor near his classroom and he's pretty sure there's a nurses office somewhere.

He walks down an empty dark hallway and suddenly realizes it's not quite as empty as he thought.

“Son of a...” Someone exclaims in a classroom to the left.

Zira stops in his tracks and backs up a few steps curious to see what the matter is.

Leaning back to peer into the room he finds Professor Crowley, elbows leaning on the podium in front of the chalkboard. Chin in his hands. Dark glasses hiding his eyes.

It looks to Zira like he's overwhelmed.

“Everything Alright?” Zira asks moving into the doorway.

Crowley's head whips around startled by his voice. Zira is startled too, Crowley's dark glasses make his gaze trained on Zira have an unnerving affect.

“What?” He asks and straightens up so he's standing.

“Is everything alright? I heard you from the hall and it sounded like there might be something wrong.”

“It's...it's nothing, I'll get it sorted.” Crowley says dismissively.

“Are you sure it's not something I can help with, I'm happy to help.” Zira stands ready and willing to be of assistance however he can.

Crowley seems to look at him for a long moment then seems to come to a decision. “It needs to be rearranged.”

“The classroom?” Zira looks around, it all looks perfectly fine to him, it actually looks very much like his classroom setup.

“I'm getting a projector brought in for slides. It needs to go in the middle of the classroom in front of the screen behind me.” Crowley gestures and Zira notices the screen that pulls down over top of the chalkboard.

“Ah...” Zira understands now. “So the podium and the center row of desks need to move.”

“Yeah, hum yes.” Crowley grimaces. Zira isn't sure why it's got him concerned it's something they should be able to do. Zira knows things are solidly built but they are movable.

“Nothing we can't handle, the two of us.” Zira steps up. “Do you want the podium by the desk or over more toward the door?”

“The other side... closer to the door.” Crowley's face falls. “I...” He starts to say something and Zira thinks he looks discouraged. Zira tries to lift his spirits.

“We can do it! I'm well practiced at moving furniture.” It's the truth, his grandmother had always wanted his help in rearranging things.

“Alright... I appreciate... your help.” Crowley purses his lips and looks unsure.

“I'll take this side, we can walk the podium across.” Zira takes hold of the top of it and scoots one side and then Crowley shifts it the other way. It's heavy but not terribly so, more awkward than anything. They make it across and Zira shifts it into position. “Will this work?”

Crowley leans heavily against the podium, he didn't look winded but his expression gave Zira pause. Was that pain he was seeing? Perhaps it had been a bit of an exertion for the man, he was quite thin.

Crowley looks around the room “Yes, yes it will work. Couldn't have done it better.”

“Very good, now about the desks...”

“There are five rows of five so if four from the center row are moved to the back of the other rows then the one desk left can be what the projector sits on.”

“That will work.” Zira agrees.

Crowley pushes off his perch and saunters across the classroom in his very distinctive gate. Zira watches closely for any signs of distress. He hopes he's reading too much into things.

He can't help but notice as he watches that the way Crowley walks is all hips and long legs. Definitely not how they were instructed to walk at school when learning etiquette.

Crowley heads to the end of the center row and drags the chairs from the last two desks with him. Zira steps lively and moves one desk and then the other. Crowley goes back to get the other chairs and Zira makes quick work of the desks.

“There now, all done!” Zira observes cheerfully.

“This will do...” Crowley observes the classroom satisfied with their work. “Lunch?”

“lunch..?” Zira looks around and notices the clock above the door. “Oh it is that time! Would you like to head to the dining hall?”

“Yes, I do think I will Professor Phell.”

“Do call me Zira, Professor Crowley.”

Crowley smiles but there's a sly edge to it. “I'd say call me Anthony but everyone just calls me Crowley.”

“Well, Crowley it is than.”

Zira lets Crowley set the pace as they walk, so they both stroll leisurely across the campus.

The campus is bustling now with students and parents. Everyone is moving in a hurry to get somewhere. Everyone is moving around them and the students not knowing Crowley and Zira are new teachers don't know yet that they should greet them. There is an interesting anonymity in it all.

Zira does take notice of a couple of people who seem to be looking in their direction, Michael and another figure Zira recognizes as an Alumni thought he doesn't recall their name. They don't look happy, their expressions are not what Zira would call friendly.

He starts to ask Crowley what he thinks that's all about when Hastur and Ligur make an appearance.

“Look Ligur it's our two newest teachers crossing the grounds together isn't that nice.”

“There's safety in numbers.” Hastur steps close to Crowley in an attempt, it seems to Zira, to be intimidating.

Crowley leans away and raises an eyebrow. “Don't you have kids to shake down... make sure no one's smuggling cupcakes or candy floss onto campus?”

“We're doing our jobs, what are you doing?”

“Getting some lunch.” Zira offers.

Ligur rolls his eyes. “Course you are sugar plum, make sure you feed this one, any skinnier and a stiff breeze'll blow him away.” They both laugh unpleasantly.

“We'll be watching you.” Haster adds and the two of them thankfully walk away.

“What is their problem?” Zira asks exasperated.

“Who knows, they're idiots!” Crowley sneers.

* * *

The dining hall provides them with bread, cheese, ham and an apple, along with a cup of tea. Zira follows Crowley to a table where no one else is sitting.

“Oh my, this takes me back, quintessential school lunch.”

“Yeah...” Crowley wrinkles his nose. “I'm going to have to get some things in... at least some decent tea.”

“Hum, yes, this cup could do with some improvements but the ham's not bad.” Zira cuts and eats another piece.

Crowley picks up his apple and fiddles with it, twisting the stem till it comes off. “You're staying here on campus?” He asks.

“Yes, above the library. It was Professor Den's apartment, and you, are you staying here?”

“I'm in the rooms off the kitchen...”

“Really? Is the cook not using them?” Zira is surprised he would think Crowley would want rooms that were used by other teachers not off the noisy kitchen. Perhaps there were no other rooms available.

Crowley shrugs “I think the cook moved off campus.”

“Oh well lucky you, you'll have the kitchen at your disposal day or night.” That doesn't sound too bad to Zira. Crowley doesn't sound nearly as thrilled.

“lucky me.” The comment was dry as dry as the bread, Zira's certain is a day past fresh. Maybe the school needs to find a cook to stay on campus, it appears the food is suffering from the commute.

“I remember making raids on the kitchen as a student, waiting until the middle of the night or as near as we could wait for and then raiding the cupboards for biscuits and jam, did you ever do that?”

Crowley shrugs again and tears at his piece of hard bread.

“Got caught a time or two, me. The cook came out of her quarters waving her arms and hollering like the Dickens at us 'Heathens, back to bed with ya.' I wonder if you'll catch any raiders in the act. What do you think you'll do if you catch them?”

“I don't know, show them where they keep the chocolate.” Crowley takes a bite of the apple he's been holding.

“Oh, bit of the devil in you.”

Crowley smiles genuinely at that. Even with the dark glasses on the smile makes him look quite friendly.

* * *

Zira ties his best bowtie and checks it in the washroom mirror to make sure it's straight and even. He pulls on his favorite tan coat, grabs his briefcase, takes stock of it's contents and considers himself ready.

He takes a deep breath and heads to his first class of his first semester as Professor Zira Phell.

He's opening the door to the building when Crowley's voice comes from behind him. “Good Morning Zira.”

Zira turns and finds Crowley in the morning mist dressed in a dark gray suit and hat with his dark glasses on standing at the bottom of the steps to the building leaning on a cane.

Crowley straightens up and snatches his cane up to rest it on his shoulder as he holds onto the railing coming up the few steps to the front door.

It's not unusual for men to carry canes as a fashion accessory so it doesn't surprise Zira that he has one.

“Good morning Crowley, you look quite dapper for your first day.” Zira compliments hims easily.

“As do you, the tartan suits you.” Crowley offers and Zira touches his bowtie in appreciation.

“Thank you.” He says turning quickly back to the door hoping to hide any blush that rises in his cheeks.

“Good luck today with your classes.”

“And you, good luck.”

Zira opens the door and his new life officially begins.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First week. New Students, Faculty Lounge, Different teaching styles, Some of Zira's history, Dinner with Crowley and Church on Sunday

“And Adam Young.” Zira calls the last name on the roll.

“Here Professor Phell.” The boy raises his hand and makes his presence known.

“Very good all present and accounted for.” Zira closes his roster book.

“Welcome to Literature One. I hope to make this a productive year for us all. I have selected a number of books, plays and poems for us to study. These I believe will highlight the impact that great literature can have...”

A hand goes up in the middle of Zira's monologue derailing his train of thought. “Yes, um yes what was your name again? Do you have a question?”

“Yes, and it's Adam Young sir. I have a question, did you go to a school like this one, away from home?”

“Well yes I did, I went here, to St. Terrence.”

“Then you should be able to give me an answer, how long does it take to stop missing home? I've never been away from home like this before, Sir.”

The boy does look terribly homesick, Zira softens and forgives him his interruption, he remembers what it was like to be a first year student and not know anyone.

“You'll make friends soon enough and that helps. A school like this one has so many people and so much going on that soon you won't miss home like you are now. This will become like a second home.”

“How would you suggest, Sir, that we go about making friends sir?” A student, Zira wracks his brain for the name, Wensleydale, asks.

“Well being at the school you will have lots of shared experiences with other students, that's a good way to meet people and make friends. Everyone will settle in soon enough and you'll find who you fit in with.”

Zira is overselling things just a bit for the sake of being optimistic for the students. He himself never fully fit in here. He loved his time here of course but he never had the close friends he hoped he would.

“Tell you what... how about we go around the room and properly introduce ourselves to one another. Lets all say our name and our...” He thinks for a second about what they all might like. “favorite flavor of ice cream!”

* * *

Zira breathes a sigh of relief when he finally gets to his lunch break.

His first thought is to find some food and some quiet, his second thought is to see if Crowley is free also.

He skips down the steps and hurries down the hall. The door to Crowley's classroom is closed and he can hear Crowley speaking to the students.

He must have a different lunch period. Zira is disappointed, he is surprised he feels so strongly but he justifies his feeling imagining he's disappointed he'll have to go to lunch alone.

He stands outside the door and listens for just a second, curiosity getting the better of him.

“There are three rules in this class, when I am talking you are not. Work is to be turned in on time or won't be accepted. And don't bother showing up late the door will be locked.”

Zira's eyes widen, he had no idea Crowley was suck a stickler.

* * *

In the faculty dining room Zira sees a few faces he recognizes from the meeting on his first day.

He smiles and greets everyone cheerfully and takes a seat close to where everyone is sitting but doesn't presume to sit with them.

He's very happy to peruse the book he brought with him anyway.

He's reading one of his favorite soliloquies in Richard the II when he hears Crowley's name come up in a conversation down the table.

The nurse, Uriel he thinks, is speaking in a hushed voice with two others. “and those glasses he wears... so odd.”

Zira bristles he doesn't like that they're talking about Crowley. He thinks for a second maybe he should say something but he doesn't want to alienate himself from the rest of the staff on the first day of class. He bites his tongue and collects his things, it's about time he was back to his classroom anyway.

He's tidying things in the classroom in preparation for the next group of students when the Assistant Dean sticks his head in. “How goes it Professor Phell?”

“Oh very well, Dean Etron! It's been exciting.” Zira will all the sincerity in the world.

“Very good, glad to hear it... oh this is... different.” Dean Etron looks around Zira's classroom and takes in the new arrangement of the desks. They've been moved into a horseshoe instead of rows.

“oh just something I wanted to try. I had the last class rearranged them so they can see one another better. I think it will be a very good arrangement for conversations and when we read plays aloud.”

“Yes well, we'll see, do carry on.” The Assistant Dean smiles, Zira gets the feeling it wasn't as sincere a smile as it could have been.

* * *

At the end of the day Zira is pleasantly tired and satisfied with his day's work. He walks downstairs and down to Crowley's room for the second time today. The door is open and Zira knocks.

“Come in.” Crowley is sitting at his desk at the front of the classroom, flipping through his roster book.

“How goes it Professor Crowley?”

Crowley raises an eyebrow and eyes Zira “the Assistant Dean asked the same thing...”

Zira nods and walks in “Oh, he asked me the same earlier, I just wanted to stop by and see how things went.”

“Went fine, I laid down the law, I think they got it.”

“You laid down... the law.” Zira remembers what he heard Crowley tell his class at lunch.

“You've got to be strict with them, got to give them rules and enforce those rules. You give them an inch and they'll take a mile.” He waves his hand in dramatic emphasis of his point.

Zira tilts his head. “I'm sure that's not...”

Crowley's dark gaze stays on Zira as if daring him to continue his thought. Zira decides to drop it.

“are you finished up here, we could head to the dining hall.”

“You go ahead I want to review these names again.”

“Your class lists?” Zira stands at the corner of the desk and peaks at the names in the book.

“Yes, I'm wretched with names. I'm hoping if I keep the students in alphabetical order and they never change seats I'll get their names down by winter break.”

“It won't be that bad...” Zira tries to be optimistic but Crowley is having none of it.

“No, you don't know that. There's so many of them. There all different and worse some of them are the same. Tell me why, why I have a Sarah Brighton and a Sara Button. Right next to one another on the roster and in the seats and they both have brown hair in braids and glass... what kind of cruel joke...”

“It'll be fine. Don't stress over their names tonight they won't expect you to know all of them by tomorrow.”

Crowley huffs “I suppose not...”

“No, Come to dinner.”

“Well... you've got a point.”

“Oh good!” Zira chirps. “I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to tempt you.”

Crowley shifts around and puts his things away before grabbing his hat and cane from behind his desk. “Alright, lets go.”

* * *

Zira strolls with Crowley to the dining hall. “Any interesting students?”

“Ahhh they're fine. Hum, one young lady, Anathema, seems quite bright, and she got a name unique enough to remember. We'll see how she does. The first quiz I have planned is for Friday.”

“In two days?” Rather shockingly fast, Zira thinks.

“And it's a pop quiz, they have no idea it's coming. Plus each class period will get a different quiz so they won't be able to warn one another about the questions.”

“That is Devilish of you!” The cock of Crowley's hat and swing of his cane solidify the devilish imagine.

“aaahhh...” Crowley shrugs. “It's like five points, it's really not worth anything in the long run but it'll be a good assessment of where they are and it'll let them know they need to stay on their toes.”

“Hey, watch where you're walking!” Hastur shouts from the lawn ahead of them. Crowley and Zira look around to see what the problem is.

“Are you warning us or yelling at us?” Crowley asks. “Because we're like five feet away from your tools.” He gestures toward Hastur's tool box and ladder which he and Zira are in no danger of treading on as they are on the sidewalk and Hastur's things are in the grass.

“Both!” Hastur glares at them picking up his things. He throws a nasty look over his shoulder at them as he walks away.

“What an odd man.” Zira comments his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah I think there must be a screw loose with him.”

“He's not the sharpest tool in the shed.” Zira suggests with pity.

Crowley snorts in amusement. “You could say that.”

Zira holds the door for Crowley when they finally reach the dining hall. This time as they move past the students they are greeted.

“Good evening Professors.” and the like are sent their way.

It makes Zira's heart happy.

“You're not going to cry are you?” Crowley teases him.

“No I shouldn't think so, I just... it's just so wonderful to hear. I never thought I would be where I am now.”

“No? Why not? You went here, you didn't think you'd ever teach here one day?” Crowley asks as they make their way to the food.

“I was, well... here on charity.” Zira hasn't talked about this in a long time. He can feel his cheeks start to warm. He hates that he finds it embarrassing still. “I was raised by my grandparents. They could never have afforded to send me here. I think they may have called in some old family favors to get me in and selected for a scholarship. I just remember there were those who never let me forget my family couldn't afford to send me to school.”

Crowley nods with an expression that telegraphs understanding and Zira can feel some of the discomfort of talking about his past melting away.

“And look at you now, probably teaching some of those jerk's kids.”

“What about you, I know you didn't graduate from here but were you a legacy?”

“No. My mother and stepfather were just looking for a school that would keep me through holidays and the summer. Some place they could dump me.” Crowley says very plainly.

“Oh well that's just...” 'sad, terrible, not right' Zira couldn't decide.

“Long over.” Crowley supplies. “No point in dwelling on it.”

“No, indeed.” Zira understands that sentiment well.

They take their dinners to the faculty hall. It's fairly empty now. Not all of the staff live on campus, many will have gone home for the night by now.

The two of them have a pleasant meal and say good night.

Zira thinks his first day couldn't have gone much better.

* * *

The rest of the week goes very well also, everyone was decent to Zira, even Hastur and Ligur seem to lose interest in pestering him.

He doesn't see Crowley much the next two days. He seems to be very busy. Apparently preparing lectures and slides to accompany those lectures can take quite a bit of time.

Zira never sees Crowley in the faculty lounge near his classroom. He did mention to Crowley about how he'd set up the desks in his room but Crowley doesn't come up to see.

On Friday Zira certainly hears the students warn one another that Professor Crowley is giving a quiz.  


Zira shakes his head, amused, knowing that the quiz will have changed by the time the next class takes it.

That night Zira doesn't see him, not in his classroom, not at dinner. Zira figures he must be busy grading all the quizzes. Crowley isn't around on Saturday either.

Zira was almost tempted to go over to Crowley's apartment and make sure he has something to eat, less he get any skinnier. Zira doesn't go, he controls himself. For one thing, Crowley is a grown man, for another he lives in the apartment off the kitchen, he could get something to eat anytime of day or night if he wants it.

Zira spends his Saturday digging through Professor Den's books and perusing the library. He makes notes as he goes.

He winds up with a list of books he things the school should have copies of. He plans to discuss their acquisition with Mr. Pratchett the librarian next week.

On Sunday morning Zira chances a glance around the church and catches a glimpse of Crowley at the back. It makes sense that he was there when he hadn't shown up anywhere else this weekend. It is mandatory that everyone who lives on campus attend the service.

Zira tries to catch up to him at the end, just to say hello and see if he was ready for classes tomorrow and maybe to see if he was going to be around tonight...

His pursuit is interrupted when Adam Young steps in his path. “Professor Phell!”

“Yes Adam, good morning.” Zira smiles politely.

“Professor I'd like you to meet my friends.”

Zira looks behind Adam and finds three other first year students he also has in class. “Oh yes, Pepper, Brian and ...”

“Wensleydale.” The little boy with glasses reminds him.

“Yes right, it's nice to see you all getting along.” Zira smiles and hopes the conversation is at an end.

“We followed your advise Professor and found something we had in common.”

“Wonderful, that's just... wonderful children.”

“We all have your class Professor.” Adam informs him smartly.

Zira blinks processing what they're getting at, and he finds it surprisingly touching “Oh, Oh my, well... I'm happy I could help bring you all together.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A project, a problem, a little whump

“We've made another friend too, Anathema.” Adam points across the nave. “Do you know her? She says she doesn't have any classes with you.”

Zira looks where Adam is pointing and sees a young woman with glasses who does indeed look quite smart, just as Crowley assessed.

The young man she is talking to looks more of a hopeless mess. “I don't have her in any of my classes but I have heard Professor Crowley mention her, she has a class with him.”

“I'm taking a class with Professor Crowley.” Pepper informs him.

“Oh how do you like it?” Zira asks truly curious.

“It's astronomy, which I think is super interesting, with planets, eclipses, dark stars, asteroids and stuff. Professor Crowley seems crazy strict, I think it's going to be a really hard class with lots of tests and papers,.”

Zira isn't surprised to hear this.

“Also he knows like a lot, a lot a lot. Professor Crowley's really smart and a very good teacher. The class got him to go off on a tangent once this week, talking about if there could be plants or life on other planets, it was really interesting stuff in like a change your life kind of way.”

Hearing this does surprise Zira and he's just as surprised to find how proud he feels at the glowing report of Crowley. He'd only known the man a week. Still they were teachers at the same school. Perhaps he'd feel the same pride if any of his fellow teachers received such a review.

“Well it sounds like Professor Crowley is going to make it a rewarding semester for you. Perhaps I'll have to pop in and learn a thing or two about Astronomy myself.”

The children laugh but Zira is seriously wondering if he could maybe peak in during lunch one day.

It could be informative. There is overlap between astronomy and literature... and art history. It was also educational with see how another teacher ran their classroom.

Zira shakes himself out of his musings. “Run along children, enjoy your day.”

The students say their farewells and head in the opposite direction as Zira makes his way to the door. Everyone seems to have cleared out by the time he gets there. He steps outside disappointed. “Oh my.” He sighs to no one in particular.

“Something the matter Prof?”

Zira spins and finds Crowley leaning agains the side of the building, hat cocked back on his head, the cane he seems to carry off and on again resting on his shoulder. “Oh! Crowley, you startled me!”

Crowley nods knowingly, the sly smile Zira has noticed he gets sometimes is on full display. He puts on clever posh voice that makes Zira laugh “Have you broken your fast yet this morning?”

Zira shakes his head. “Would you care to get a cup of tea?”

“Lets.” Crowley pushes off the wall starts towards the dining hall.

* * *

“I was trying to catching you in the church to say hello but some of the students wanted my attention.”

Crowley tuts “Should have put the fear of god in them in the classroom then they'd say 'good morning Professor' like they should and not stop to talk. That's what I do.”

“Well I suppose that could work, but I don't want to scare them. Really I don't mind talking with the students.”

“That's your choice.” Crowley shrugs.

The tea hasn't gotten any better since school's started. It's so-so at best. Zira vows to bring something better when they get their first pay cheque and he gets into the town to shop.

“What are you up to this afternoon?” He asks as he tries a sausage.

“I've been meaning to check out what the library has by way of art and astronomy.”

“Oh that sounds like a good way to spend the afternoon.”

“Really?” Crowley seems like he can't believe Zira would want to spend the day in the library, when that actually sounded wonderful to Zira.

“Oh I love combing through the stacks. I've been a few times this week, looking through the books and talking with the head librarian.”

“Are you headed that way today?”

“I do believe I am.” Zira definitely can't resist going now.

Neither section is huge, certainly not as large as the history and classics sections but there are some books that interested Crowley and Zira found very interesting as well.

They sit together at one of the library tables and flip though a large volume of art history that has some very nice photographic reproductions. Crowley seems to be making a wish list of works he'd like to cover in class.

“What will you be teaching in class this week?” Zira asks.

“I think the majority of the week we'll be looking at Ancient Greek art.” Crowley flips back to an earlier chapter in the book.

“Really, that's so funny.”

“What's funny about that?” Crowley's eyebrows furrow. Zira's sure if he could see Crowley's eyes they would be giving at him suspicious look.

“Well I'll be doing an overview of the Iliad, the Odyssey and Virgil's Aeneid with my students.”

“Ah right, funny that we planned coinciding lessons.” Crowley turns back to the book then starts flipping pages furiously. “Oh, there are... have you seen... this” Crowley flips quickly through the text in front of them to show Zira an image of a man and two boys fighting a large snake. “Laocoon”

“Oh my yes, the priest who warned the Trojans against the Horse. That is an impressively dramatic depiction of his death by snake.”

“Yep, the statue was discovered in the 1506 and it's said Michelangelo was there for its unearthing.”

“How interesting.”

“And this one...” Crowley flips through again and stops at a picture of a Greek vase. “Achilles and Ajax playing a game.”

“How wonderful. I would love to show my students. Maybe I could borrow the book and you could mark the pictures of interest for me.” The addition of visual could really be exciting Zira thinks. 

Crowley starts to agree but then stops and seems to be considering something. “Or... I've got a crazy idea... what if we... we combine classes, I could show slides and talk about Greek art and culture and you could present the text.”

Zira blinks. “Do you think we could do that...” he’s intrigued “I mean that would be fantastic, when do you propose we do this?”

“Tomorrow” Crowley states confidently. “I'll have to adjust my Art history lecture a bit, take some new notes and get the slides in order but it's doable.”

“I can pull the text that corresponds. Oh my goodness, could we do this...” Zira starts to get excited. “But what about your astronomy class?”

Crowley doesn’t skip a beat “There's talk of constellation and heavenly events in those poems aren’t there?”

Zira doesn’t have to think he knows the answer. “Yes, yes there are.”

“Than I can talk about the Greeks and their understanding of astronomy and the attempt historians have made to place the texts in time by looking at the eclipses and things mentioned. I can make it work.”

“This is so inspiring. Where do we start?” 

“Paper and pen I think.”

“Of course, that’s a good idea. I'll get some and my books.” Zira hops from the table and goes to collect what they need.

They work in the library until dinner and then do some work in the dinning hall then they head back to the library.

Zira walks quickly in his excitement, He notice belatedly Crowley doesn't keep up. Crowley keeps his sauntering pace. There's a little spark of a thought in the back of Zira's mind. Maybe the cane he carries is not be just a fashion accessory. Maybe it for more than just show. 

When it gets late in the library Zira suggests “you could come up to my place, we could have a drink. I've got a bottle of scotch that I've been thinking about opening.”

Crowley looks at Zira and doesn't say anything. Zira doesn't think it's just the glasses that are making Crowley look owlish. “I... I think... I've got slides... maybe another time.” Crowley collects his papers and books and bundles them under one arm as he puts his hat on his head and grabs the cane. “I think this class thing will work, I'll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.” Zira sighs as Crowley goes. It had been a really good day. Even if he didn't get to end it with a metaphorical cherry on top.

The next morning Zira’s first stop was Crowley's classroom to check and make sure everything is ready for their joint classes today.

Zira has a skip in his step as he moves through the halls.

There's little over half an hour before the students show up.

Zira knocks on the door to Crowley's classroom. He can hear a scuffle coming from inside. “Crowley?”

“Yes, yes I'm here.” Zira opens the door and sees Crowley sitting bent over the desk, facing a box of slides as he picks each one up in turn from it’s slot. He seems to be examining each of the glass slides before seting them back in the box.

What Zira thought was just a normal check he can tell as he enters and gets closer is not. Crowley's hair is mussed, his tie is askew.

“I think they're alright. I don't think any broke... I hope nothing broke.” He makes his way through the box.

“What happened?” Zira asks holding his briefcase in his hands and watching with concern.

“There was a door and I was... in a hurry I guess and didn't... see.”

Crowley’s voice is more filled with emotion than Zira has ever heard. There is a slight hitch in it that alerts Zira that something else is the matter. If he could see us eyes instead of just dark lenses Zira thinks he might see them fill with unshed tears. “Are you alright?”

Crowley keeps focus on the box, handling each slide and replacing it gingerly. Finally he reaches the last slide and sighs satisfied. “They're fine.” His relief is palpable.

“That's good.” Zira relaxes too.

“I think we're ready.” Crowley sits back in his desk chair with the start of a smile on his face instead he winces.

“Oh my you're hurt.” Zira can see, now that's Crowley's not got his nose in the slide box, that there's a red mark on his cheek where he must have hit the door.

Crowley looks at Zira, his tilted head and quirked eyebrow project confusion, like he's trying to act innocent, like he doesn’t know he’s bruised, until Zira reaches out like he might brush his hand against the side of Crowley's face.

Crowley flinches back and brushes Zira's hand away.

“It's nothing.”

“It's not nothing, you should see the nurse.”

“I've got to get the projector set up.” Crowley says stubbornly. 

“There's time yet till first bell. At least lets put some cold water on it...” Crowley doesn't seem convinced. “It'll make it feel better.” Zira tempts him and Crowley's resolve weakens.

He pushes up from the desk with a sigh. “If we can make it quick.”

“Won't take a tic.”

Zira leads Crowley to the men's washroom down the hall. He flips on the lights as he goes in and heads straight for the towels and the sink to run the cold water.

Crowley enters behind him, locks the door and switches the lights off.

“Oh?” Zira reacts when the lights go out. He looks up as if to see if there’s a problem with the bulb. 

“Sorry, i turned them off. Is there enough light coming through the window?” Crowley asks.

There is a frosted rectangular window above Zira's head that is letting in light but Zira isn't sure why Crowley turned the lights off until he turns back to him.

Crowley is removing his glasses.

“It's just, I'm sensitive to light.” He blinks even in the low light of the washroom and Zira can see his eyes for the first time.

They're what Zira might describe as a warm golden brown color, kind, handsome, expressive. So different to the dark lenses. He also, Zira notices, looks so much younger with his eyes uncovered.

Zira's heart skips a beat.

Then he notices where the door must have hit Crowley’s glasses when he walked into it. There’s a bruise started around Crowley's eye that's starting to darken.

“Oh my boy.” Zira says softly as he takes the cold damp cloth and gently presses it to Crowley's eye. “Are you sure you don't want to see the school nurse? You know if it's too painful we can postpone our big project and I'm sure the Assistant Dean will let you off for the day, someone will cover.”

“No, no this, it really is nothing, I'll be fine. Nothing I can't handle, believe me.”

Zira sighs, slightly exasperated. “You're not hurt anywhere else are you? You didn't fall did you, when you ran into that door.”

“No, I didn't, I didn't get more than hit in the face. I've got a bruised eye and a bruised ego.”

“oh no,” Zira assures him. “I'm not going to tell anyone. You can say whatever you like if someone asks what happened.”

“Well that's kind of you not to tell... I don't know that Ligur will afford me the same courtesy.”

“oooh gosh did he see it happen?” Zira winces in sympathy. There's no telling how Ligur might choose to use that embarrassing moment to his advantage.

“He was exiting through the door as I was entering through it.”

“Ouch.” Zira comments and takes the towel from Crowley to rewet it and hand it back. Something strikes him. “You don't think... no... you don't think he might have?”

“What, intentionally hit me with the door?... no” Zira can see the wheels turning behind Crowley's unguarded eyes. “I shouldn't think he's be that nefarious.”

Crowley barely puts the freshened towel on his cheek. When he removes it he puts his glasses back on with a grimace. Zira misses his eyes as soon as they're covered again.

“No, I guess you're right we shouldn't think that way.” Zira takes the cloth from Crowley and lays it off to the side of the sink for the maid to get later.

Crowley straightens his tie and tries to tame his hair. Before he exits he turns, his eyes behind the glasses angled down, not quite at his feet but not reaching Zira's eyes either. “Thank you.”

“Of course, I’m happy to help.” Zira only wishes he could do more. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira and Crowley work closely together.

They leave the washroom, Crowley is insistent he is alright and they can go on with their plan. But Zira worries all through taking attendance in his classroom.

“Now, students as part of a special collaboration with the art history class we are going down to Professor Crowley's room to learn about Greek life and art as we begin our introduction into the works of Homer and Virgil. Grab your notebooks and pencils.”

Zira leads them down the hall, down the stairs, down another hall and then knocks before entering Crowley's classroom.

It is dark in the room, the only light is coming from the projector and from the cracks between the shades that are drawn. Crowley stands at the podium looking very much in charge of the class. He welcomes Zira and the new students. “Have a seat here on the floor.”

Zira ushers the first year students in and then takes a perch on the corner of Crowley's desk. He notices the student Anathema is in charge of changing the slides for Crowley.

Adam notices too and gets up on his knees to wave at her.

“Down in front.” Crowley calls for Adam to sit. “You young man, have a seat.”

“Adam Young sir.” Adam tells him.

“What?” Crowley “floppy haired boy, have a seat.”

Adam points to himself as if he doesn't know who Crowley is talking to. Zira shakes his head, he's got cheek in him, that one.

Crowley looks exasperated.

Zira jumps in “Adam have a seat please.” he instructs so they can get on with the lesson.

“Lets begin, first slide please, Anathema...”

It's a slide of the Sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi. Crowley talks about how the Greeks worshiped out in nature. With temples and alters on hillsides and in the wilderness.

Zira is enthralled by how Crowley comes to life, big and bold, funny and entertaining as he spins the story of the Greeks, where they lived, how they lived and how they expressed themselves. Put together a variety of slides that really help illustrate his points, landscapes, amphitheaters, vase paintings, statures and history paintings seem to capture the student's imaginations.

Zira adds readings of some of the relevant texts, just as he and Crowley planned.

“'The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.' Virgil,The Aeneid"

When the bell rings to dismiss class there is a pleasant vibe coming from the students as Zira herds them out to collect their things from upstairs.

“That was great!” He comments as he passes Crowley. Crowley nods as he moves to make sure everything is reset. “See you again in a minute.”

Lunch is the only period where things don't work out the same as the rest. Zira's class eats the first third of the long period. Crowley's class eats the last third so they can only join for about half of what they get to for the other classes but the students seem to enjoy it all the same.

At the end of the day Zira dismisses his students from his classroom and then hurries back down to Crowley's classroom. He finds that the projector is shutdown and cooling. A couple of the shades are up to let some more light into the room and Crowley is lounging practically boneless, sprawled in his desk chair.

“That was fantastic fun!” Zira exclaims.

“We'll have to do it again some time.” Crowley suggests casually.

Zira's already got new ideas formulating. “I plan on covering Beowulf and hum Chaucer, will you be covering Celtic or medieval art?”

“ahh.” Crowley starts to smile at Zira's enthusiasm but gingerly touches his cheek and Zira is reminded how the day started. “Do you need help getting anything put away?”

“Just need to put the cover on the projector and get my things.”

“Well lets do that than, I know you've had a long day... you, well, you did a wonderful job today. I really enjoyed watching you teach.”

“You weren't so bad yourself.” Says as he turns away grabbing his satchel and moving to put the projector cover on.

Zira smiles at the other man's back.

* * *

The next morning before class Zira hears a knock on his door. His heart jumps, Crowley's name is on the tip of his tongue but when he turns he finds the Assistant Dean in the doorway. “Oh, good morning Dean Etron. to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The Assistant Dean walks slowly into the room hands behind his back as if he's inspecting. “I heard you and Professor Crowley had quite the event yesterday. Many of the students have been talking about it.”

Zira's heart drops, it hadn't occurred to him until this very second that maybe combining classes like they had was something he and Crowley should have asked permission to do.

“I, we... it was an idea and we ran with it... we didn't think...” Zira sputters.

The Assistant Dean holds up his hands. “'It's alright it sounds like it was a brilliant success. I do hope the next time you both collaborate you will inform me.” He pauses and lets that sink in before adding “I would love to drop in and see what all the excitement is about.”

“oh well yes of course Dean, we won't be so hasty about things next time, should we do it again.”

“Wonderful and Professor Phell it seems you and Professor Crowley work well together and have a good rapport with the students. I was thinking to get the two of you to head the after classes tutoring session for the first and second year students. You would be held a couple times a week and it would be mandatory for our most at risk students and voluntary for any student seeking extra help. You could even recruit third year and higher students to help.”

Zira isn't sure what to think but he knows at this time with the Assistant Dean in front of him the only thing he can say is: “That sounds like a great idea.”

* * *

Zira is practically buzzing when he finally gets to talk with Crowley at the end of the day. They sit in the faculty hall of the dining room and talk over roast and boiled cabbage.

“He asked me too. But instead of just say 'yes' like you did I asked the important questions.” Crowley ribs him.

“Oh is that right?” Zira says with just a touch of sarcasm.

“Yes... 'what do we get for doing this?' 'What do we get for giving our precious free time to the school?'”

“Did you really ask the Assistant Dean that?”

“Not in those exact words...” Crowley pokes at the beef with his fork “but I did find out we'll get a stipend put towards our room and board and any students that help will get credit towards their extra curricular requirements.”

“Well that's an agreeable arrangement.”

“Yeah it'll work, it's probably the job they give to the new guys because no one else wants to do it...”

Zira hums in agreement.

“We can use my classroom.” Crowley throws in.

“Oh...” Zira was going to offer his room but Crowley beat him to it. “alright, if that works.”

“Yeah, might as well.”

There's a knock on the door and both look up to find Nurse Uriel in the doorway.

“There you are, I've been looking for you Professor Crowley, Assistant Dean Etron wanted me to check on you.”

Zira looks from Uriel back to Crowley concerned and then is reminded of the bruise on Crowley's cheek and the fact that what's under his glasses might look worse.

“Thank you nurse I'm fine.”Crowley politely declines help.

Th nurse pushes back. “Dean Etron said that...”

“I will thank the Assistant Dean for his concern but I need no further attention thank you.” Crowley makes his feelings clear.

“Fine than...” Nurse Uriel turns on their heels. “Maybe if you took the dark glasses off you could see where you were going.” They say, half mumbling as they walk out the door, obviously irritated.

“Oh my!” Zira stands from his seat scandalized by her comment. He looks back at Crowley and than back at the door trying to decide if he should go do something, say something.

“Leave it.” Crowley says.

“But that was rude...”

“Yeah, but nothing I haven't heard before, no point in making it a thing.” He turns back to his dinner. “So this tutoring thing... are you any good at Maths?”

Zira sits back down with a sheepish look. “I think we'll probably need to find some students who can help with Maths.”

* * *

Anathema Device and Newton Pulsiver were happy to sign on as volunteer tutors when Crowley asked them and both boasted quite impressive grades in Maths so Zira was very pleased to get their help.

Zira and Crowley go over the list of mandatory students in Crowley's classroom, “Dagon, Sandalphon, Warlock... I don't have any of these students in my classes.” Zira says, the first two are second years, but Warlock is a first year.

“Me either, what kind of name is Warlock?” Crowley scrunches up his nose and grimaces as he aggravates the bruise on his cheek.

Zira snorts. “Apparently the kind that belongs to a boy who is failing three subjects before midterm.”

“Eeeehh.” Crowley reacts to the large number.

“My thoughts exactly. So we'll have them after classes here and they can start on their homework and we can rotate around and assist.”

Crowley makes a face but seems to be resigned to their fate then he smiles mischievously. “Or we get them all to do their Maths homework and give them all to Newt and Anathema and have them deal with the kiddos.”

Zira shakes his head amused. “We shall see how it goes.”

“Tomorrow.” Crowley says with a sigh.

“Tomorrow.” Zira agrees and starts to gather his things, it's time they got dinner and got to their respective homes for the night.

Zira and Crowley exit the academic building.

Zira can see Hastur and Ligur lurking at the door to the next building. Crowley saunters right on by barely sparing them a look. Zira feels like he's under a microscope as they continue to gaze at them. “Good evening.” He says with a gulp.

”Fine evening we're having.” The tone in Hastur's voice did not match his words and they made Zira's skin crawl. Zira walks, maybe a little closer to Crowley.

* * *

The first afternoon of tutoring goes relatively peacefully.

There were the fair share of huffs and heavy sighs. Some of those sighs may have come from Crowley. Zira gave him a look early on and he shaped up. All of the students, consisting of the mandatory and a few voluntary, got some one on one attention.

Dagon and Sandalphon were in particularly sour moods and Warlock looked bored and was easily distracted.

They all did what they were asked to do eventually so Zira didn't make a bit deal out of their attitudes.

“Alright everyone.” Zira says to the room “collect you things, we'll see you Thursday.”

The students are excited to be dismissed, Zira's pretty excited to finally be done for the day too, to be honest. “Make sure you bring work and questions next time.” Zira says, but the students are grabbing their things and practically run for the door. “did you hear me...? Careful, behave please. Warlock, watch where you are going, you'll get hurt.” The boy practically falls over the chair of the desk next to him in his hurry.

“Hold” Crowley says from his seat at one of the student desk. All the students headed for the door stop in their tracks. “You all better have work with you next time and Walk out of this room respectfully when dismissed.”

The students nod and say goodbye to the professors like students with some degree of etiquette instead of a bunch of barn animals.

There is a collective feeling of relief once the students have gone.

“That was fun.” Anathema sincerely comments as she and Newt follow suit.

Newt doesn't look so sure. “I think Sandalphon is going to need more help in Maths than I can give him.”

“We'll work it out.” She reassures him.

“Have a good evening you two, thank you for your help.” Zira waves as they go.

Crowley pushes himself out of the desk chair with an audible and dramatic groan.

“Doing alright there?”

“Bloody little desks.” Crowley arches his back and stretches, staggering a little as he gets moving. Zira gives him a sympathetic look, he had looked uncomfortable at the desk, sitting kind of twisted with his long legs sticking in different directions.

Crowley moves slowly as he collects his things and Zira putters around the room straightening askew chairs and picking up a dropped pencil. Before they can get out the door Adam Young and his friends peak in. “Professor Phell?”

“I'm afraid you lot have missed tutoring for the day Adam.”

“Come earlier on Thursday.” Crowley suggests dryly.

“Right but we're not here about tutoring, not today... Professor Phell we wanted to tell you we've been exploring.” Adam's friends all nod and look pleased with themselves.

Zira smiles thinking fondly back on his time as a new student when the school seemed exciting and huge. “Oh... checking out the stacks in the library, the portrait hall in the administration building? The Prop room in the theater?” Zira mentions a few of his favorite spots to spend time.

“No nothing like that.” Brian insists.

“Way more interesting than that.” Pepper seems put off by his suggestions.

Crowley straightens up to his full height as he listens “You kids better be careful, don't want to be caught somewhere you shouldn't be.” He says seriously.

“We won't get caught, it's fine.” Adam insists. “We just found the coolest thing in the dormitory attic. We figure probably no one knows it's up there or has seen it in years and Professor Phell would probably be the best person to tell.”

“You've been talking about exploring and discoveries in class, haven't you professor.” The one with the glasses, Wensleydale, adds.

Zira opens his mouth and closes it again unsure what to say, he looks to Crowley and finds the other looks rather paler than he had, the now purple bruise under his eye standing out in in strong contrast and if he was a student here at the same time Zira was than Zira can imagine why.

“Children... “ He starts unsure where he's going to end up. “I know it's fun snooping around where students normally don't go... but there is a reason why. Why they're off limits and students are discouraged from going to. These places can be dangerous.”

“But Professor...” Adam says with an air of adolescent confidence.

“No. He's right it's dangerous.” Crowley cuts in.

Zira speaks the next words quietly, almost like it would be bad luck to speak them too loudly. “When I was in school here a student fell from that attic.”

The students get quiet, then speak up at the same time. “No way.” “Really?” “What happened to them?”

Zira speaks earnestly “They were very badly injured.”

He remembers the incident, the students talked about it for days and all kinds of rumor flew about why the student had been up in the attic that night. And what had made them fall

“Were they alright?” Brian asks timidly.

Pepper asks more boldly. “Did they... they didn't die did they die?”

Zira again speaks honestly. “I don't know but they didn't return to the school.”

It was a sad incident and Zira hadn't thought about it in years. In fact, now that he was thinking about it he couldn't remember the student's name. He hoped they didn't die.

Maybe Dean Etron or one of the older teachers would know. It probably wasn't worth asking and digging up bad old memories. “Just stay to student areas and be careful. I don't want to see anything happen to all of you.”

“All right Professor.” They say soberly.

“Now go wash up and get to dinner.”

“Yes Professor.”

The children shuffle out and Zira turns back to Crowley who he noticed had been very quiet. “Are you ready to head to the dining hall?”

“What? oh yes, I guess.” Crowley seems a little distracted and still pale.

“Were you here when that student fell?” Zira, is curious, maybe a little too curious. It certainly wasn't the nicest topic to keep talking about.

“Yes.” Crowley breaths.

“Terrible thing. I was upset by it and I didn't even know them... did you know the student that fell?”

“You could say that.” Crowley doesn't look at him when he answers, he looks off to the side. He can't see his eyes but Zira is certain is he could they would have a distant look in them.

“Oh...I'm sorry.” Crowley's quiet seriousness makes Zira think perhaps the student did die.

They head to dinner and have a quiet meal, quieter than usual.

Zira finds himself back in his apartment that night with a glass of wine, digging through his books.

He could have sworn he had a yearbook. Finally he find one, St. Terrence Year Book it was from his third year. The year before the student fell.

Curiosity had him flipping through the pages to the 'Cs.' He scans through the section for all the grade level and then flips through again but doesn't see Crowley.

Zira is disappointed. He sits back and absently turns the pages. He sees faces he hasn't thought about in years. He sees Dean Etron, The Dean herself, Professor Luther, Professor Nelson, Professor Den, he sees Michael in Fifth year section, but he doesn't see a face that he thinks could be the student who fell. None of the faces jog that memory.

Zira sends up a silent prayer for that that student whatever may have happened to them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira and Crowley have a conversation, go to a party and deal with some Alumni

The rest of the week is uneventful except the school is preparing for the Fall Harvest Weekend.

It is an event where the students got special treats like a moving picture show and cakes. Donors and Alumni were invited to the school for a dinner, faculty are expected to attend. It is a big fundraiser for St. Terrence.

Zira expects there will be good food, dancing and the expectation that the faculty be on their best behavior while schmoozing with the people with big cheque books.

He sighs at the thought of having to attend a stuffy function on his Saturday night. He would prefer to be curled up with a good book and some coco but his attitude is bolstered by the promise of a good meal and good company.

“Ready for tonight?” Zira asks as he sits down next to Crowley at lunch on Saturday.

“Uuugh do we have to go?” Crowley whines and Zira chuckles at him. “It's all a bunch of hullabuloo.” He's really pouting now and Zira can't help but be amused.

“I can't say that I'm thrilled about the hul... hula b... all that. But I am looking forward to the food. What do you think they'll have? It's a Ritzy affair I bet it'll be fancy whatever it is. Maybe there'll be oysters that would be fancy.”

“I've never had an oyster.” Crowley admits as he tears the crust off his bread.

“Oh you really must if you get the chance, they are delicious.”

“Well maybe I'll try one if the opportunity arises.” He looks at Zira and one eyebrow raises clearly above his glasses. It's a sly look, the word wily comes to Zira's mind.

“Oh do.”

“I'm really hoping this is quick, I'm not excited for spending the evening with bunch of people I don't know.” Crowley scrunches his face up in distaste.

He's not bothered by the bruise on his face any more. It's been a couple weeks since their joint class and the bruise has faded and is only discernible now because Zira nows what he's looking at.

“Well we'll know the other faculty and maybe some of the alumni. I've never been to an alumni event, I wonder how many I'll recognize.”

“uuugh I'm hope none.” Crowley pushes his plate away after only eating half his lunch.

Zira thinks to tell him he better eat and keep up his strength for tonight but he doesn't want to patronize the man. “I've seen a few Alumni coming and going on campus that I've recognized. It's hard to believe people I went to school with are old enough to have children who are students here.” Even if they were upper class men.

“Some get started young.” Crowley points out.

“Yes, of course.” that is true, some people have children right out of school. That wasn't on Zira's mind at all when he graduated. “I certainly wasn't thinking about children at that age, I can't even imagine. I graduated and had to take time off before attending University to take care of my Grandparents.”

“Huumm...” Crowley hums as he listens.

“What about you? Do you think you'll have a wife and some kids someday?”

“I hope not.”

“You don't mean that.”

“I do” Crowley draws the words out for emphasis.

“But you're so good with the students.”

“Yeah and I get to leave them at the end of the day. You have kids of your own it's all day, everyday, noise and sticky hands. Constantly having to worry about them. It's not for me.”

Zira considers his reasoning. “I think it might be nice to raise a child with the right person even with the sticky hands and the noise.”

Crowley points his fork. “You say that now wait till one of them puts his sticky pudding hands on one of your books then tell me how you feel.”

That gives Zira pause. “Ehh well, they say when it's your own children it's different.”

“Yeah, parents, they've got to say things like that don't they...” He huffs. “I have chosen to shape young minds and then send them back to their parents to get their noses wiped.”

“I think we should send some of our students in tutoring back to their parents.” Zira says, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

Crowley sits up and looks over at him with surprise and delight. “Zira! Perfect, optimistic, never say a bad word, Zira, proper angel, did you just insinuate what I think you're insinuating?”

Zira turns two shades redder, “I... I don't mean to say they're hopeless... and I'm by no means perfect...just that some of them are... goodness, I've put my foot in it haven't I?”

“Oh Angel.”

“Oh shut up.” Zira can't help but smile as Crowley laughs out loud.

* * *

That night they walk together to the gymnasium where the dinner is being held. Zira has dressed in his best suit and he thinks Crowley has too. Crowley's added a shinny watch chain, it hangs from his waistcoat and looks very dashing with his hat and cane.

The gymnasium has been cleared of footballs and cricket bats and is set up with chairs and tables brought in for the occasion. They are decorated with golds and oranges. There is a small band playing off to one side, the music is light but up beat. It's all very proper.

“Ready to rub elbows?” Crowley asks as they walk in together.

“Ready as I'll ever be.” Zira plasters a smile on his face and they wade into the sizable crowd.

Zira sees other teaches he recognizes. He waves at Professor Nelson and Dean Etron clasps his shoulder in passing. Crowley sticks close.

Zira does most of the talking when they are engaged socially. People seem to take one look at Crowley and his dark glasses and turn to Zira as the safer option. “Good Evening, I'm Professor Phell and this is Professor Crowely. We teach literature, art history and astronomy.”

“Three classes but there's only two of you.” A woman dressed to the nines twitters with amusement.

Crowley smiles charmingly and explains. “I teach art history most of the day and have taken over one of Professor Luther's astronomy classes.”

“How nice.” The woman smiles politely then swiftly moves to another group of people, people with fancier suits and nicer jewelry, to schmooze.

Zira nudges Crowley's arm and gets his attention and then points towards the food.

They get some hors d'oeuvres and a man who's had just a little too much to drink already informs them that he went to St. Terrence. “I luved iiit herrrre.” he slurs sloppily as he leans into Zira.

Zira is put off by the man's overly familiar antics. He backs up a step and bumps into Crowley.

Crowley hisses, in what Zira figures must be irritation at jostling his hors d'oeuvres plate.

“Oops, I'm sorry.” Zira apologies and makes to help him or get him a new quiche.

“You're good, I'm good.” Crowley stops him fussing.

“Lets find a seat, shall we.” Zira suggests and Crowley is all to happy to agree.

They make their way to an empty table on the other side of the room. Zira says 'excuse men' and 'pardon us' the whole way across the floor.

He sits gracefully. Crowley practically melts into his chair, an arm drape onto the table, legs spread out in front of him.

Zira tries the finger foods in front of him. “”the small quiches are good.” He says after savoring it.

“Quiche.” Crowley parrots “Quiche.” Crowley examines the quiche from his plate and pops it in his mouth whole. “It's an interesting word.” he says after swallowing.

“Yes... interesting.” Zira blinks a little amazed, he isn't sure Crowley even chewed it before swallowing. He changes the subject. “It is a shame they don't have any oysters. I wonder what they'll bring out for the main course.”

Zira tries the stuffed mushroom and then has some cheese. Crowley picks the tops off the strawberries on his plate. Zira's seen him play with his food before but he wonders if it's nerves tonight.

“We didn't get anything to drink.” Zira points out. “would you like some punch?”

“I...” Crowley starts but he doesn't need to answer Zira's already decided.

“I'll get it for us, back in a tic.” Zira smiles reassuringly at Crowley and makes his way back across the room to the refreshments. Of course he's pulled aside by the Assistant Dean to chat with a donor about how nice the library is and how the really are thankful for the money for all the wonderful books.

Finally he gets to the punch bowl.

He looks back across the room in Crowley's direction and sees He's talking to someone at the table. It looks like three people there with him actually.

Zira doesn't think much of it, except to hope Crowley is on his best behavior. He fills a glass for himself and one for Crowley. He turns around to start heading back to the table and promptly bumps into Ligur.

Punch splashes over the sides of the cups. Zira is mortified.

“Watch where you're going.” Ligur snarls and walks away.

Zira sputters. “I... I... ah.” He finally thinks to turn back to the table with the punch and put the dripping glasses down.

He grabs napkins and starts to mop up the spill, as he finishes getting it as best he can, he stands and can see Crowley standing up too at their table. From across the room Zira thinks Crowley looks harried, he stumbles and moves the chair out of his way turns from the three people standing at the table and storms off.

Zira is flabbergasted and unsure what's happened. He forgets the punch and hurries back to the table.

Crowley is gone.

But Michael and two other Alumni who were ahead of Zira in school, Gabriel and um, Zira thinks their name is Beelzebub stand there talking in hushed tones.

Zira looks from them to Crowley's empty chair and back to the three Alumni. “What happened? Where did Crowley go?”

Michael looks down their nose at him. “Crowley, as you call him, left. Just like he should.”

'What do you mean? What did you say to him?”

“Who are you? Michael who is this and why is he talking?” Gabriel asks condescendingly.

“No one of consequence.” They say snidely.

“No one of... now wait just a minute... wait...” Zira can't believe what he's hearing. The fact that anyone, Alumni would speak like this...something dawns on Zira. “Was Professor Crowley who you were complaining about when I heard you in the Assistant Dean's office on my first day Michael? What in God's name? Did you say something to him?” Zira tries to understand. “Why? Because he's different?”

“Would you just stop talking!” Gabriel practically shouts.

“This is none of your business.” Beelzebub glares at him.

Zira narrows his eyes right back at the three of them, grabs his hat and Crowley's, who must have forgotten it in his haste to leave.

Zira leaves the gathering to find Crowley.

When he gets outside it's drizzling. It's a cool fall evening and the rain makes it a bit unpleasant. Zira doesn't have an umbrella with him. At least he's got a hat. Crowley doesn't have his. Zira heads to the kitchen.

The kitchen is busy feeding the students but Zira knows there is a back door to the apartment. There don't appear to be any lights on in Crowley's rooms but Zira remembers he's sensitive to light so it's possible he's in but he's not turned the lights on.

Zira knocks on the door. He doesn't get any response. He knocks again. Zira wonders if Crowley would even open the door... if he was upset he might not.

Thankfully there's an awning so he's not standing in the rain.

“Crowley, it's me... Zira. You don't have to open the door, not if you don't want to...” Zira waits but the door still doesn't open. “I just want you to know that whatever was said to you tonight that made you want to leave, it's nothing, you're worth so much more than anything those blockheads had to say. I think you're amazing... an amazing teacher and a good friend.” Zira feels a little awkward talking to the door, but he's said what he needed to. “I'll … I'll just leave your hat here. I'll see you at church in the morning.”

Zira leaves the hat hanging from the door handle.

He can't go back to the party, if he see those three ass … a … Alumni again tonight he might have words with them and he doesn't know exactly what he'll say.

He decides instead to just go home for the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Saturday’s dinner, Zira sleeps late, Crowley sleeps later

Zira doesn't sleep well. 

He drags himself to church the next morning, later than he would have liked. The only seats left are in the back but sitting in the back lets him look around for Crowley without looking blatantly like he's looking around for Crowley.

He's not there as far as Zira can see. Zira starts to get even more concerned. 

At the end of the service before Zira can get up from his seat the Assistant Dean is there standing over him. “I noticed you left the dinner early last night Professor Phell.”

“Yes Sir, I do apologize, something came up.” How embarrassing, he had hoped no one would notice.

“Ah, well we missed you. I do hope the matter is resolved.”

Zira gives him a tight smile as he stands up to go. “Of course Sir.”

“Oh and Professor Phell if you see Professor Crowley do tell him that his absence from today's service will be excused. He looked like he was having rather a rough night last night. Perhaps he had too much punch. I saw him out without a hat or umbrella when I was leaving after the dinner last night.”

Zira nods consenting to delivering the message. He leaves the church with the wheels in his head spinning. Why on Earth would Crowley have been walking around in the rain last night?

Zira decides now is as good a time as any to go check on him.

He makes his way through the students who are milling around after church and heads over to the door he talked at last night. He notices the hat is no longer hanging from the door handle. Hopefully Crowley got it when he finally got in last night.

He knocks and waits and is surprised when he hears movement inside.

It takes longer than Zira thinks it really should for Crowley to answer the door and his heart starts pounding in earnest. The door finally unlatches and opens but only about five inches, through the gap Zira can see Crowley fumbling to get his dark glasses on. “uuhhh Angel... I mean, hum, Zira” he says in a tired, horse voice. “Ugh my head hurts. Why’s it got to be so bright out? What time is it?”

“Past noon now, my boy.” Zira tries to keep his voice low and quiet. 

“What? no, did I miss... of course.” He sounds frustrated and like he spent too long in the cold rain and got a head cold. “I'm going to be in trouble.”

Zira notices, even though Crowley hasn't opened the door all the way, that he's not dressed in more than a pair of pajamas and a dressing gown. 

He must really feel under the weather. 

“Well actually the Assistant Dean says you're excused from Service today. He said he saw you. You were out late last night, in the rain. We’re you out walking without a hat or any protection from the rain?”

Crowley still doesn't move to open the door but Zira can see him shake his head. “I'm sorry I left early.”

“Was it something Michael and those others said to you?” Zira asks

“I just... I don't want to talk about it.”

Zira tenses, it sounds like his instincts were correct. He realizes after a second that he’s clenched his fists and consciously relaxes. It wouldn’t do to get upset like that. “If they said something...”

“It's nothing,” Crowley insists again. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“That is fine,” Zira sighs, he understands, he understands wanting to avoid something and not address it. Some times it’s for self preservation, sometimes it’s for sanity. “Crowley, I'm sorry if something happened last night. It's your business but I'm willing to listen if you want to talk... I'm a good listener and, and an even better disher. Let’s see, hum... Michael last night looked like they got that outfit at a... a barn sale.” 

It’s silly, it’s meant to be. It gets a small smile out of Crowley and Zira feels his heart warm.

“Maybe...maybe later...we’ll talk. Not now.” 

Zira nods “Is there anything I can get you now, an aspirin or some tea?”

“No, no... I'm just... I think I'm going to go sleep for a week.”

Zira nods. “Alright, get some rest, feel better. I'll see you later.”

“Later” Crowley agrees.

Zira reluctantly turns from the door. He hears Crowley close it behind him. Zira wonders what he's going to do to keep himself busy and distracted for the rest of the day. 

His brain currently is going over and over all the things he’d like to say to Michael and the others. He imagines really giving them ‘what for.’ 

* * *

He grades papers, reviews his lecture notes, bookmarks relevant passages in the text he'll be teaching.

He rearranges Professor Den's books on the shelves alphabetically and then by date published. He picks out his outfits for the next week.

Finally it’s time to have dinner. He heads promptly to the dining hall. He expects to see Crowley and is surprised when he doesn't. It’s possible he just not there yet and is on his way. Zira stands in the hall as students and some other faculty filter in. He looks across the dining hall and decides to do something a little different, maybe a bit forward but not too different he hopes.

Instead of staying in the hall getting food and waiting to see if Crowley shows up to eat, he goes straight to the kitchen.

The kitchen is busy gettin all the food out and ready, prepping for tomorrow and cleaning all the used pots. Zira enquires if the staff have seen Crowley at all that day. They inform him that none of them have 

That might mean that Crowley, who never eats very much honestly, hasn’t eaten anything at all today. Zira takes it upon himself to remedy that. 

He begs some sandwiches from the cooks and two cups of tea with honey. The kind cook Mrs. Strathmore also puts some apples and a couple pieces of pie on the tray for him.

He thanks her profusely and balancing everything precariously on the tray and heads to the door that connects Crowley's apartment to the kitchen.

He knocks and he hears movement inside relatively quickly this time. When the door cracks he can see a light on which is probably a good sign that Crowley is feeling better. 

The door cracks open but even less than Crowley had it opened in the morning. “Yes?” He asks still sounding tired and like he isn't sure who could be knocking on his door.

“Crowley? How are you feeling?” Zira sees the recognition dawn in Crowley. His eyebrows raise and his shoulders relax. “I came to see if you wanted food.”

The red of his dressing gown is visible. So Zira isn't surprised when Crowley replies “No, no, I don't feel like going out.”

“Well than it's a good thing that I brought the food to you.” Zira shifts so Crowley can see the tray with food from his angle. “The tea's getting cold.” Zira tempts him. 

Crowley looks very seriously at Zira for a second before it seems like he comes to a decision. Zira is half certain he's going to be turned down. He is surprised. 

“Alright than, you better come in.” Crowley backs up and opens the door. “You can put things on the table here.”

Zira enters with his tray and is amused to find the door from the kitchen enters into a small apartment kitchenette. There is a table with two chairs where Zira places the tray and starts to sets things out.

He turns back to Crowley “Have you got any...” He was going to ask about forks but when he turns back and sees Crowley fully for the first time today all the thoughts he was having are lost.

He sees Crowley. Crowley's standing with a crutch. He has a crutch. A crutch under his arm.

The food, the forks and the tea are all forgotten.

“My dear boy, are you hurt?” Zira asks truly concerned. Shocked and unsure what to do but still eager to help he takes a step towards him but Crowley waves his hand dismissively.

“Didn't mean to startle you.” He walks slowly to the table leaning on the crutch. He limps where he would usually swing his hips.

Zira is left dumbfounded. “You look hurt, are you sure you're not hurt? Did something else happen last night?”

“It's fine. I'm fine...” Crowley uses the crutch grip and the table and eases himself down into a chair at the table. His left leg stretches out in front of him in very Crowley like fashion. Zira can't seem to control his shock. He stands by the table unsure what to do with his hands.

“Angel. Really I'm fine. I just didn't feel like putting my leg braces on today...”

“... you didn't.” Zira sinks into his seat. His mind replaying the few weeks he's know Crowley. Was there any hint that he wore leg braces? That he used crutches? There was the cane... Crowley often carries a cane. It wasn't just stylish.

“The tea's getting cold.” Crowley prompts. He moves the crutch around so he can lean it on the wall behind him, with it's mate.

Zira snaps out of his shock enough to get them both food. He sets things out for Crowley and himself. He finds silverware and napkins and settles into the empty chair at the table.

Crowley drinks his tea and the way he raises his eyebrows makes Zira think he knows the questions are coming.

Crowley sets his cup down and nods and the flood gates open. 

“What happened? Have you always had braces? How did I not know? Does the Assistant Dean know? Are... are you in pain?” Zira can't help himself.

Crowley takes a deep breath. “Accident when I was young, since then, I don't know, I don't advertise, yes the Administration knows, and there are good days and bad days.”

“Good and bad? oh...” Zira lets that realization sink in. “and today?”

“I've been better.” Crowley admits.

“I'm so sorry.”

“Nothing you did.”

“No. I know, still I'm sorry you've got pain in your life.” Zira hated to see anyone, person or animal hurt. He'd rescued more than one wounded animal as a child, he considered himself a lover of all of God's creatures. Which reminds him how his grandmother would comfort people. “My grandmother, she always said the lord gives us trails...”

Crowley frowns “No, no... this isn't the lord. The lord's got nothing to do with me.”

The idea makes Zira sad but he nods. Honestly he's had a hard time with the idea of 'God's plan' himself over the years.

Zira chews as he thinks. Crowley picks at his sandwich. It seems like he wants to say something. He keeps looking up at Zira. “What's the matter? Is the food alright?”

“You won't make a big deal about this will you?” Crowley gestures to his legs. “You won't tell anyone?”

”No, no I'd never.” Zira says adamantly. “It's up to you who knows.”

“Good, right, I appreciate it... it's just, you know, there are some who know and seem to take issue...” Crowley sighs.

Zira wonders if he's talking about Michael and those other alumni.

“You could have a word with the Assistant Dean, if someone is being inappropriate.” Zira suggests.

“I'm not... ready to make a thing out of it.” Crowley is adamant this time. “I just want to get through the semester.”

“I understand, I do.” He wishes there was something he could do to make things easier for the other man, “If you ever need help with, people or things or want to talk... I mean not to sound dramatic but, I dare say, we're friends and I'm here.”

“We'll see.” There's a bitter tone, Zira tries not to take personally.

* * *

The next morning Zira arrives at the Academic building at the same time as Crowley. “Good morning my boy.”

“Morning Zira.” Crowley takes the three steps up to the door like he usually does.

Zira can't help but watch. “Head feeling better?”

“head feels much better and I'm all suited up.” He raises his left pant leg and Zira can see the metal brace.

“Quite discreet. Impressive.”

“two things my stepfather did for me: pay for my education and get me the best leg braces.” Crowley pulls open the door. 

“That was nice of him.” Zira follows into the building. 

“Being nice was not his motive.”

“Oh?” This perplexes Zira. 

“Oh Angel, I think I might like to live in your world.” Crowley shakes his head. 

They walk into the building together and then come to the foyer where they part ways. “See you this afternoon.” Crowley says as he heads down the hall.

Zira agrees and turns to the stairs and suddenly gasps.

Crowley turns around concerned. “Alright, Angel?”

“you've never come up to see my classroom.” He he breaths out. 

Crowley ducks his head apologetically. “look Angel it's just...”

“No, don't apologize, it just dawned on me. I thought you were being aloof but it's too many stairs isn't it.”

“To go up and down, yeah, it would just be too much.”

“Right.”

“Right?”

“Absolutely, I get it now... I really just wanted to show you some of my books from my collection. I'll bring them down.”

“That would be... good.”

“Later than.”

“Yes, sure, later.”

Zira nods and smiles and they part. Zira's thoughts are going in fifty different directions and at least half of them lead to Crowley. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira shows off his books, there’s an accident, Zira is fond of Crowley.

Zira would knock but he's got his arms full of books. He couldn't pick just one to show Crowley, he loved them all. He nudges Crowley's classroom door open with a call of “good afternoon, Crowley.”

He backs into the room and turns around to see it's dark except for a projection of a star filled mosaic.

The slide Crowley had up on the screen had been painted so instead of being just black and white it was painted with blues, yellows and oranges. Crowley was leaning against his desk looking pensively at it with his arms crossed.

“Is this one for class?” Zira asks from the doorway. Crowley doesn't react to his question. Zira isn't sure if he didn't hear or if he isn't going to answer. After a second he simple nods and offers a soft yes before he's moving to shut the projector off.

“It's a very pretty hum picture.”

“It is.” Crowley agrees.

“Is something on your mind?”

“No...” He follows quickly with. “it's nothing.”

Zira wonders if he's thinking about this past weekend or something else. “Would you like to see some of my books?” Zira lifts the stack enthusiastically.

“Sure.” Crowley smiles. It's a sad smile but it's something.

Zira sets his prized books down on the desk. Crowley opens the curtains in the room and lets more light in.

Zira spreads them out on Crowley's desk. “These are some of my favorites.”

Zira looks proudly at them... there's Shakespeare's Sonnets, Hamlet, Anthony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet, Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, Oscar Wilde plays, Gulliver's Travels, A Christmas Carol, Pride and Prejudiced, Sherlock Holmes. A real hodgepodge.

Crowley looks at them and picks up Hamlet. He turns it over in his hand. He looks back at Zira. “Are they special editions or signed?”

Zira understands the questions. It's what's to be expected when showing off a collection of books.

“Sadly no, I've never had the money for that kind of investment, that would be an impressive hobby. No, I collect books that have been used and loved.” Zira looks fondly at his collection.

Crowley flips through the copy of Hamlet in his hands. There are notes next to Horatio's and Ophelia's lines. Along with stage directions.”

Zira points to the notes. “I think it was used in a community theater production and Horatio and Ophelia shared a copy of the script.”

“Or maybe one actor played both roles.” Crowley suggests.

Zira's eyes get wide and he nods enthusiastically. “True very true. This one this copy of Charles Dickens' a Christmas Carol it's a library book from New York City. Not only that but it was checked out right before Dickens toured America in 1842. I bought it at a thrift shop in Chichester. How in the world do you think it wound up there?”

Crowley smiles at him and it makes Zira happy that he could distract him from whatever's weighing on his mind today.

“The sonnets is probably my most favorite.” Zira picks it up to show. It's not particularly old, maybe twenty or thirty years. I got it in an estate sale.”

He opens it. The title page is filled with drawings of lovingly modeled flowers. “They drew on it. It's not part of the printing, I checked. They drew flowers all through it and wrote in it too.”

Zira carefully turns the pages. Sonnet numbers are circled and notes 'This reminds me of you' and 'Read this one at sunset and think of me.'

“It's in two different hand writings, I think they, whoever the couple was passed it back and forth.”

Zira shows the copy of Romeo and Juliet. “Mercutio seems to have had difficulty with his lines. He's underlines things a number of them and circled words I imagine he kept forgetting. “

The copy of Gulliver's travels has an inscription to the recipient 'Yahoos are only small annoyances in the grand scheme of life. ~ Uncle Algernon”

Crowley watches Zira intently as he shares and seems to enjoy looking at Zira's collection then his stomach growls.

“Oh my.” Zira looks up and sees the sun is setting “I didn't mean to take up your time like this.”

“It was an enjoyable way to spend the time, I'm glad you shared.”

Zira nods with a warm smile. He feels like his heart might burst out of his chest, as happy as this time has made him.

“I'll just run these back up stairs and then do you want to go to the dining hall?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Crowley starts gather his papers and his satchel.

“Alright, back in a tic.” Zira bounces on the balls of his feet as he leaves the classroom. He hurries down the now dark and empty hallway. The rest of the faculty and the students have gone for the night.

Zira notices that the double doors at the end of the hallway which aren't usually closed are at the moment. He think it's odd for a second but dismisses it as something that probably happens from time to time.

The door on the right is cracked open a bit. Zira pushes it open to go through.

Suddenly there's a noise, something shifting, then something's falling. Zira jumps back instinctively with a shout as a bucket clatters to the floor and water splashes.

Startled Zira fumbles with the books in his arms. Some books fall, some he manages to clasps tight to his chest.

“No” he says in despair as he drops to his knees, trying to retrieve the fallen books before they're waterlogged.

He's not quick enough to save one. “No, no, no...” Zira tries to shift the other books so he can grab it. He has trouble, the other books slide in his arms and he scrambles to keep hold of them. He sobs in frustration.

Then there's a hand on his shoulder and someone else reaching for the book in the puddle.

“Are you alright?” Crowley asks his voice full of concern as he lifts the book and holds it out as it drips.

“I'm alright. I don't know if Gulliver's travels will be.” He sniffles and shifts his stack of books so he can stand.

Zira gets up and notices Crowley doesn't. He's kneeling down, sort of, it's looks like an awkward position to Zira, his legs are folded under him. Which Zira imagines is not good.

He panics a little, shifts the books quickly again so he can hold his hand out to help Crowley up.

“I'm sorry, are you... will you be. You shouldn't have...”

Crowley takes his offered hand and Zira helps get him up and straightened and continues holding on until he gets his balance and then Crowley hold on just maybe a second longer.

Then lets go “Fine, I'm fine and I think the book will be alright, we can dry it with some towels...”

Zira holds his head with his now free hand and Crowley looks at him with renewed concern. “Are you sure you're alright?”

“I just don't know what happened.” Zira looks around confused, “I was going through the door and then the bucket was falling.”

Crowley sneers. “Talk about yahoos... I think I see the king of them now.”

Zira looks up and sees Hastur coming around the corner like nothing much is happening. 

“Is this your bucket?” Crowley asks much more directly and accusatory than Zira would have. Zira holds his breath.

“Might be.” Hastur narrows his eyes at them. “What's it to you?”

“Why are you leaving it where it could fall? Over the door? It could have seriously hurt someone!” Crowley raises his voice.

“Could have...” Hastur glares some more as he stands across the puddle from them.

Zira takes a calmer tone not that he feels calmer. “Do please in future mind where you leave things. My goodness, what on Earth were you doing with the bucket up there in the first place?”

Hastur looks Zira up and down and offers. “Washing windows.” He points to the transom above the doors.

“yahoo.” Crowley says under his breath. Then says. “Oh well, I guess we'll move out of your way so you can clean this up.”

“Let's go take care of your book Zira.”

Crowley directs Zira back into his classroom, while he goes and gets towels from the bathroom. 

Zira is checking over the other books when he gets back. “Did anything else get damaged?” He asks handing the towels over.

“Thank heavens no, everything else seems fine.” Zira takes the soggy book and presses it between the towels. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest from the shock of that darn bucket.

Crowley leans on the corner of his desk and watches him with a soft expression.

Zira braves opening the wet book’s cover. He holds his breath.

It's not as bad as it could be. The inscription has only bleed a little, it's still ledgable. He blots it carefully not to do any further harm. “I think it will be alright, I’ll let it air dry, the pages might warp but I can... can press it,” Zira tries to kept the emotions out of his voice. “that might help get it flattened back out... do you think we should tell the Assistant Dean? I mean that was dangerous. That bucket there. It could have been a student opening the door.”

“It was definitely strange... I think right now we should finish up here and go get some food.” Crowley says evenly. 

“Yes that would be good. Some tea would settle my nerves.”

“I think I might need something stronger than the tea the dining hall serves.”

* * *

That night Zira lays in bed tucked under the covers. He can’t focus on the copy of Count Of Monte Cristo that he’s trying to read. His brain keeps going back to today and thinking sadly about his damaged book. He's hopeful he can keep it, it's not in too bad a shape, just needs to get it dried and pressed. He keeps reminding himself. 

It's just the whole mess of it all is still upsetting to him. It was just absurd, why rest a bucket on a door like that? The building may have emptied out quick that afternoon but he and Crowley were still there.

What if it had been Crowley who went through the door instead of him. Zira had only just gotten out of the way of the falling bucket. Crowley may not have been that fast reacting. He might have been really hurt by it.

Zira’s mind races and goes in a direction he’s surprised by. Perhaps he’s been reading too many books of intrigue. Maybe Crowley going through the door with the bucket had been the plan all along. Hastur could have easily thought Crowley was alone in his classroom and that it was going to be him who walked through the doorway on the way out of the building.

But that would imply that Hastur had ill intentions and Zira doesn't want to imply that even though not thinking that implied that was Hastur was an imbecile.

That was sadly probably closer to the truth. 

* * *

The next morning Zira sees Crowley speaking with Professor Luther outside the academic building. He hasn't seen much of the older professor in the last month or so. The man was practically ancient Zira couldn't help but think of a gargoyle when he sees him.

“Good morning Professor Luther, Professor Crowley.” He greets them both. 

“Good morning to you Professor Phell.” The man trains his baggy eyes on Zira. “I heard you had a bit of a fright yesterday.”

“Did you?” Zira isn't sure how or when the man would have heard or who would have been gossiping. Still small campus, gossip travels fast.

A glance at Crowley reassures Zira that it wasn't him who was talking. Crowley gives him a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I was just telling Professor Luther it was nothing. Just a misunderstanding.”

The professor scoffs at that. “So you weren't scared by a bucket on a ladder?”

Zira is irritated by the implication. “Most certainly not, that is absurd. The bucket wasn't on a ladder, it was over the door, it practically fell on my head.” Zira takes a second to compose himself. It wouldn't do to shout in the face of Professor Luther. “The grounds man Hastur had it placed up there.”

“I find that hard to believe. The man's always been a little odd but not incompetent. You on the other hand... I'm not sure you'd know which way was up on a ladder and you...” Professor Luther was apparently not done being old and rude. He turns to Crowley. “You probably couldn't lift a bucket of water even if it had a hole in it.”

Zira stands there speechless as the old man turns in to the building, chuckling to himself like he’s just shared some wonderfully funny insight and not just said something terribly crass. 

“Charming.” Crowley sneers in a mocking tone. “Old coot.”

“When is he retiring?” Zira asks dryly. 

“He’s got tenure so probably not til doomsday.”

Zira snickers and rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

Zira follows Crowley into the building, holding the door for him.

He’s leaning heavily on his cane today. 

He looks about as tired as Zira feels, and probably looks too, Zira didn't sleep much thinking abut that stupid bucket and Hastur and what if it had been Crowley instead of him. 

When they get in Zira stops in the foyer, the offending door in front of him. Crowley stands between its jambs favoring his left leg. Zira is reminded how Crowley was there by his side helping him with his books.

He had been there so fast as Zira recalled, he was practically right there after it all happened. Like he had come running when Zira had shouted. 

He had to have moved faster than was prudent for him. 

The dear boy hadn't exercised much self preservation. He'd pushed himself to help Zira and now he was paying for it.

“Zira?” Crowley's voice cuts through his thoughts. “Angel?”

“Yes Dear?” Zira blinks out of his thoughts and sees Crowley smirking at him. Then he realizes what he's said.

Zira gets flustered. “Dear... boy.... dear boy... my boy?... Oh Crowley.” He finally just accepts the gaffe and chuckles self consciously at himself.

Crowley's expression softens. “I was just saying, I'll see you later at tutoring.”

“Yes” Zira says fondly. “See you, this afternoon.”


	9. Chapter 9

In class Zira feels a bit distracted like he's going through the motions. He starts reading to the class out loud but looses his place. He gracefully has the class take over reading in turns, while he sits at his desk and listens wistfully.

Then he has them write for awhile, analyzing what they've read while they sit quietly. Zira is too restless to sit in the quiet and work at his desk so he walks around the room and observes.

He suggests Adam spend more time focused on his handwriting and that Issac write more, two sentences just won't do. As he passes Brian's desk and sees that along with writing he's also drawing on his page. It's a design of stars and circles. “that's a very interesting drawing Brian.” Zira comments.

“thank you Professor, we saw it up...” Suddenly myriad of voices raise to shush him before he can say anything else. Adam, Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale all look at him with the most innocent of looks. Zira narrows his eyes at them. It is apparent they are up to something. This little quartet of mischief. Just what it could be though he's not sure.

“What were you saying Brian?” Zira challenges him.

Some of the other students giggle as Brian's ears turn red. “Nothing Professor... I hum just made it up is all.”

Zira purses his lips but doesn't push the subject further.

“Alright everyone, please leave your papers on my desk and remember there is tutoring in Professor Crowley's room this afternoon after classes if any one needs help with any of their studies.”

He dismisses the class and gets ready for the next one, maybe he'll be able to focus this next go around.

In the afternoon Zira sits at Crowley's desk grading papers. Crowley works with Warlock. Newt helps Dagon and Sandalphon with their Maths and Anathema is with the four students Zira is certain are up to something they shouldn't be.

Zira looks up from Brian's paper with the drawings on it to the group across the room. He and Crowley had told them not to go snooping around places they weren't suppose to be, and they had anyway it seems.

Or maybe it was all innocent. Zira considers. It could be just childhood making mundane things more exciting. Adam and his friends certainly are imaginative. They could be playing a game where keeping something a secret from the teacher makes something more exciting.

“Do you know anything about photosynthesis?” Zira blinks, he didn't realize he was staring. He sees Crowley has come to stand next to the desk.

“hum, photosynthesis you say.”

Crowley leans over to Zira's ear and speaks in a low voice. “I've tired explaining photosynthesis about three times now. Warlock doesn't seem to get it. Maybe you'd have better luck.”

Zira looks at Warlock, He's drawing on his text book. Zira cringes, he doesn't approve of vandalism of school property. “I can give it a try.”

Zira gets up from the desk chair and Crowley stands up from the corner he's been leaning on. But he doesn't move instead he's focused on the paper Zira left on top of the desk. “What's that?”

“Oh, it's Brian's classwork, he did this rather interesting drawing on it. The other three over there were acting very jumpy when I asked him about it earlier. I have a feeling they are up to something.”

“I know they are...” Crowley picks up the paper and grabs his cane and walks back to where Anathema has the students she's working with gathered.

Zira is pleased to see Crowley is walking easier than he was this morning.

He leans down to Anathema and says something to her. She nods and gets up. Crowley slides into the seat she's vacated.

Zira watches from a far as the student's eyes all get wide when Crowley holds up Brian's drawing in front of them.

They listen intently to what Crowley is saying to them, then nod solemnly. Crowley stands and punctuates whatever he's said to them with a resounding “Got it.” to which they now nod animatedly. “Good”

He then saunters back up and hands the paper back to Zira. “What was all that?”

“I put the fear of God in them.” Crowley smirks.

Zira starts to move around to Warlock and Crowley moves to the other side of the his desk when a nasally voice calls from the room.

“Professor Crowley?”

Zira looks see Sandalphon looking to Crowley.

Crowley raises an eyebrow as he addresses the student. “Yes?”

The boy has an odd look on his face, somewhere between blank and confused. The boy quirks his head and reminds Zira of a bulldog. “Professor Crowley, my parents say you're not who you say you are.”

The words hang in the room. Zira scuffs, not sure what to make of what he's hearing. It's such a strange thing for a student to say.

Zira looks to Crowley to see what he makes of it. The Expression on his face is unclear, the glasses hiding his eyes. But Zira can see he has gotten very still.

When he speaks his tone is deadly serious. “I am most certainly who I say I am.”

“They say you're not.” Sandalphon doesn't seem phased by Crowley's tone, Zira is surprised, some of the other students were certainly cowed by it. “Seems strange to me... who would say they're a teacher if they're not?”

“What? That's not...” Crowley sounds exasperated. “Never mind, get you Maths done. All of you get your Maths done.”

The students go back to their work and Crowley turns back to his desk. Zira sees his hands shaking before his shoves them in his pockets.

Zira doesn't sit down with Warlock, the student would have to wait a second. He goes back to the front of the classroom.

“Is everything alright?”

Crowley bites his lip. “Do you know who his parents are?” He says in a hushed voice.

Zira knows at least one and it doesn't bode well “Michael”

Both of Crowley's eyebrows raise this time. “oh, oh good than.” Each word was filled with sarcasm.

“I'm sure it's nothing.” Zira tries to be positive.

Crowley doesn't look convinced.

* * *

Wednesday morning is peaceful. Zira's rambunctious rascals in his first period are fairly calm. Apparently Crowley's 'fear of God' had them behaving at least for this class.

The second half of the day takes an odd turn.

After lunch Zira's students all seem to be worked up about something. Talking back and forth in an animated way that usually came with drama, like when Philamon and Mary, two of Zira's students in third period, had a falling out over who got to sit next to Rebecca and all the students were talking about it in forth period.

Before he starts class he hears the students saying something oddly close to what Sandalphon had said yesterday. 'He's not who he says he is.'

By the last period of the day it is clear that the students are all talking about Crowley.

“If he isn't Professor Crowley than who is he?” one of the boys, Thomas, asks the other students as they talk amongst themselves.

“A spy obviously, sent by enemies of the Crown to see how our schools work.” Emma says with confidence.

Jeremiah leans over his desk with a suggestion. “Or maybe he's a bank robber on the run. Hiding out at the school.”

“Do you think he's got a gun? Are we in danger?” Meredith asks nervously.

And Jonas doesn't help. “Why do you think he carries that walking stick, it's hiding a gun.”

Zira's had enough of this. “Class settle down. No more gossiping, there's no place for it at St. Terrence. Lets get into the text I have selected for you today.”

At the end of class Zira dismisses his students and hurries down to Crowley's room to see if his students where talking like the first years were.

Zira knocks on the open door to alert Crowley to his presence but he doesn't wait for a reply. Crowley is sitting at his desk with his head down. He springs up startled when he hears Zira enter.

“It's just me.” Zira holds up his hands instinctively, he feels like he's approaching a wounded animal.

Crowley relaxes slightly, back into his chair and fixes his glasses, that have gone askew on his face.

“Rough day?” Zira asks, it's rhetorical, the answer is fairly obvious.

“Between the strange looks and the whispers, hearing my name randomly in the hallway, it's been a very long day.”

“I'm sure it will all blow over.”

“I'm glad one of us is sure. I'm pretty sure I'm back in Hell.” Crowley shakes his head in what looks like disbelief.

“I can't imagine it's been fun today but my students are speculating you're a spy or a robber... just silly stuff.”

“Well that's kind of them, the gossip usually's not so... innocent.”

“Usually?”

“Back in Hell, remember.”

“Oh... I didn't” Zira doesn't know what to say, he's at a loss, he's not sure what is going on and what Crowley's been through before.

“Yeah no, I know. I'm like an onion, me, peel one unpleasant layer off and find another equally or more unpleasant.”

“Don't say that.” Zira can't believe that.

“I am who I say I am, Zira.”

“Of course you are, I've never doubted that.”

“But Crowley's not my name...” Crowley admits.

Zira sucks in a breath but lets Crowley continue, trying not to trample Crowley's confession.

“...or at least it wasn't, not when I went here. I changed it. It's different... I'm, I'm not who I say I am.”

Zira softens, glad he didn't react strongly. “Oh my, dear boy, if you picked it and you like it, it's yours.”

“I had to change it... it wasn't who I was anymore.” There's a tear in his voice that is threatening to be the death of Zira. “It didn't feel right.”

“Crowley... it's alright you don't have to explain yourself to me.”

Crowley sighs.

Zira smiles encouragingly. “Come on it's been a long day. Why don't I see if I can charm the kitchen staff and get us some food. I'll meet you at your rooms.”

“That's not necessary.”

“My treat.”

Crowley looks up, Zira would describe his expression as hopeful.

“Grab your stuff, lets get out of here.”

Crowley uses the desk to push up out of the chair, he grabs his cane and puts his satchel over his shoulder. Zira waits in the hall as he closes the classroom door behind him.

Zira makes note that the doors at the end of the hallway are open as usual so there shouldn't be any mishaps wth falling buckets.

Crowley looks tired and Zira understands why he would be. Gossip could be demoralizing. And this was apparently a touchy subject for Crowley. Zira wonders why Michael and whoever else had given Crowley a hard time about changing his name would be so upset by it. People change their names sometimes, married woman do it all the time.

Why should they talk about him not being who he says he is? Do they think his name, or the way he walks or his glasses will somehow affect their children? It's just absurd.

Close to the kitchen Crowley heads to the back outside entrance that leads to his rooms. Zira enters the kitchen through the front door. When he steps in it goes abruptly quiet.

Zira stands in the door awkwardly. “Good evening. I was just wondering... I just thought I would pick up some food.” He looks from one face to another trying to understand why tonight is different than the last time when everyone was very inviting. “If that's alright.”

The staff of cooks and dishwashers look at one another.

Finally the older woman who had helped Zira before, Mrs. Strathmore steps up. “Will you be wanting food for you and Professor Crowley, Sir?”

“It's Zira, please, no need for formalities and hum, yes if I could.”

The woman nods but is still giving him an odd look. The others in the kitchen get back to work.

“Just a minute Sir.”

Zira starts to correct her but decides it's not the right time.

She sets out bowls of soup and meat pies with tea on a tray for him. “Been a strange day,” She explains. “heard all kinds of rumblings from the students about young Professor Crowley. Is there any truth to those rumblings Professor Phell?”

“What have you heard?” he's surprised today's gossip has carried all the way to the kitchen. That was fast. Poor Crowley.

“I heard he lied to get placement here Sir, that your Professor Crowley isn't who he says he is.”

“He's... He's not mine” Zira can feel his face start to warm. “and that's just a nasty rumor, I can assure you he's quite a capable teacher.”

“Well I hope you're right. He seems like a nice young man, a little eccentric perhaps, but never rude like some of the learned men here...” She trails off and then apologizes. “Oh my, forgive me for speaking out of turn.”

Zira shakes his head, he's inclined to agree with her.

She smiles at him and seems to remember something. She goes to the cupboard and brings back biscuits and puts them on the tray too.

Zira thanks her. He's a little disappointed it's not cake but it doesn't seem the right time to ask for anything else.

He knocks on Crowley's kitchen door. He hears Crowley call. “Coming, just a second.” and Zira waits patiently.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley talks Zira listens, Zira gets mad at some teachers, Zira gets mad at a student, Zira gets mad at a dish, Zira gets scared walking home

When the door opens Crowley is standing in front of Zira without his jacket. His waistcoat is open, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. 

Zira blinks with shock at the informal sight. It's not that he's offended by Crowley's state of undress, just surprised by it. He shakes himself out of his stupor and smiles cheerily. “I have procured us food.” Zira presents the tray.

“Come in, Angel.” Crowley opens the door wider and steps out of his way. 

Zira's stomach flips just like it does every time Crowley calls him by that nickname. He brushes past the other man and swiftly sets the tray down on the table. 

Crowley moves around the kitchenette and grabs some spoons and napkins. He brings them to the table and then goes back to the cabinet and grabs two glasses and a bottle.

“Wine?” Zira asks with wide eyes. 

“I don't have any wine glasses but I'm not going to let that stop me. I figure it's as good a day to open a bottle as any. Would you like a glass?”

“I'll have some if you are.” Zira agrees.

Crowley grabs a cork screw and opens the bottle like a pro, then pours for Zira and himself.

Zira takes the glass offered to him and waits while Crowley stoppers the bottle and sets it aside. “What should we drink to?” Zira asks.

“Damned if I know.” Crowley shrugs and takes a seat.

Zira isn't sure either, it's been a long day. He feels it's a bit facetious to toast to a new semester or to new jobs, in light of the week they've had. He thinks about toasting to new friends for a second, but that feels a bit too forward. “How about to better tomorrows?”

“I'll drink to that.” Crowley shakes his head and tips his glass. Zira tries his glass, it's a sweetish red which is fine with Zira, it's rather pleasant.

They eat and talk about nothing much, Zira does most of the talking. He goes on about grading papers and needing to reenforce some grammar rules with his students. “Adam keeps writing 'me' in situations where it should be 'I.'” Zira sighs. 

“That's the floofy hair one?”

“Yes, the with..." Zira mimes wavy hair. "Puffy? Fluffy? Hair... anyway I think I'll make a special point of discussing the rule it in class tomorrow.“

Crowley hums to acknowledge he's listening.

Zira notices that he's had some of the soup and some of the pie but Crowley has finished the two ginger biscuits given to him. Zira thinks they might be one of the few things he's seen Crowley eat in their entirety while he's known him. He makes a mental note. 

Crowley brings up what he's planing to teach tomorrow, the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia. Zira realizes after Crowley describes it that the slide he saw on Monday afternoon, the projection of the blue and gold mosaic was what he was talking about.

“The building doesn't look like much on the outside, just plain brick. The inside though is covered in mosaics that would have glittered in the candle light. It would have been an other worldly space, like the artists brought a little piece of heaven down to Earth.” Crowley explains. 

“That is fascinating.” Zira listens intently as he finishes his soup. 

“It's very interesting and it's not just the ceiling that's impressive, my favorite is the pattern on the vaults over the lunettes. It's like stars and snow flakes and flowers all together in a blue, gold, orange pattern, it's an incredible show of skill and artistry. Then there's one mosaic in a lunette that's been a bit controversial. It depicts a saint and he's standing next to a fire with a grate. It's been questioned as to whether he's suppose to be Saint Vincent who was ordered to burn books or St Lawerence who was burned to death.”

Zira stops his glass halfway to his mouth. “Oh my, really?” 

“Oh yeah, common for saints to be shown with their manor of death, particularly if they were martyred. I've got a book with some pictures of the mausoleum I can show you.” Crowley gets up from his chair. He raises slowly, standing with his weight on his right leg, keeping hold of the chair back and table as he moves his left leg under him. 

Zira can see now, now that he's learned about Crowley's leg braces, that what he had always interpreted as Crowley just taking a languid pace is actually Crowley deliberately taking the time to make sure he's steady on his feet before he moves.

He really is very good at disguising why he moves the way he moves. If Zira hadn't been told, he never would have guessed. He figures that must have to do with attitude. 

He realizes with a start that he's staring and tips his glass up to distract himself and hide the fact. He drains what's left of his wine and starts to tidy the table as Crowley goes to get the book.

Crowley stops in the kitchen doorway and turns back to Zira. “You can come in if you want.”

“Alright.” Zira perks up at the invitation and curiously follows Crowley into the next room.

It's a sitting room. There is a desk, a small sofa, a book shelf and not much of anything else. In fact Crowley has two books that Zira can see. The art book he's pulling off the shelf to show and a big book that looks like it's on astronomy.

“Let me find the page.” He balances the book against his hip and turns the pages, looking intently.

While Crowley looks for the pictures he wants, Zira notices there is actually a third book on the shelf. It's much smaller than the other two and when Zira steps closer he realizes there's no title on the spine.

“What's that one?” He asks, forever curious when it comes to other people's books.

“That's... nothing.” Crowley says rather flatly when he sees what Zira is asking about.

Zira finds it hard to believe that the man has three books and the third one is 'nothing.'

Crowley looks from him back to the book in his arms, back to Zira, who is employing an expression some might call 'puppy dog eyes.'

Crowley sets the book he's been looking through down on a table by the sofa and picks the small book of 'nothing' off the shelf. He sighs as he turns it over in his hands.

Zira can see it's got a plain binding all the way around, no title at all. Which only piques his interest.

“I don't remember much about the accident I was in.” Crowley says holding the book tight in his hands. 

Zira takes a breath, surprised by the subject shift and sudden admission. “It must have been quite traumatic.” He reasons. 

Crowley shrugs looking at the book in his hands. “I was concussed. Everything is a blur. My memories don't came back into focus until about three weeks after it happened.”

“Oh my dear boy.” Zira says softly. 

Crowley flinches a little, a grimace... Zira isn't sure if it's from the sympathy in his voice or something else. 

“Someone... a nurse or a doctor gave me this journal during those weeks.” Crowley opens the book and ruffles through the pages. He stops on a page and Zira can see writing scrawled and shaky, and drawings all in the margins on the lined paper.

“I think maybe they thought it would help me get my thoughts in order or keep me occupied while I was in the hospital.” There is a sad undertone to his words, especially 'keep me occupied.' “I don't know if it was wise. Being concussed, most of it doesn't make a lot of sense.”

Crowley turns the page and Zira can see the words 'falling stars' written over and over again, going askew down the page. Drawings of stars and circles filling in the gaps between the words.

Zira had read about the poor boys, only a few years a head of him in school who had to face terrible injuries during the great war. Some of the strange things the wounded did and said. “The brain can do odd and fascinating things, sometimes, especially when injured."

“I suppose, I just, it's like I can almost remember what happened but then I can't...” There is frustration and loss mixed with disappointment that is so tangible Zira wants to reach out, wants to offer some small semblance of comfort. He doesn't. He stops his hand unsure how Crowley will react.

Crowley closes the journal and sighs. “I'll work with any one of the students tomorrow in tutoring but I'd really like to not work with Sandalphon. I just...” He trails off unable to finish, but Zira knows what he means. 

“I understand, don't worry about him.”

* * *

In the teacher's lounge the next day Zira is disappointed to find the teachers had caught onto the story the students had been telling and changing and retelling the day before.

Three teachers from the maths department are standing around gossiping. "I said he was an odd one.”

“I always thought he was a strange pick.”

“I don't know what the administration sees in him. He requested a class room on the first floor, away from the rest of the history department, what was that about. Probably doesn't want them to hear what he's teaching the students."

"He got permission to wear those dark glasses all the time, very odd.”

“They say he went to school here but none of the older staff seem to remember him.”

"Strange if you ask me."

“Lord maybe he is a spy sent here to gather information.”

“That's ridiculous, if anything he's lying about who he is to get a job or something.”

“If he lied, he should be kicked off campus.”

Zira gets a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't like the way people, these teachers, other staff, student, are talking about Crowley and he doesn't like the way he's starting to wonder about the things they're saying. He decides he needs to put a stop to it.

“Excuse me,” He says in his classroom voice so he's loud enough to be heard over all the chatter, but amiable enough to be seen as not yelling. “I think it would be best if we didn't say such things about a fellow faculty member.”

They turn and look at him like he's got a second head. “Of course you would say that.” 

Zira is taken a back. “What's that suppose to mean?”

“Well the two of you are practically attached at the hip, aren't you?”

Zira can feel his face getting red. “Professor Crowley is my friend and a fine teacher and I think these rumors are mean hearted gossip and need to stop.”

The Maths teachers have the grace to disperse with only mumbles of 'I've got other things to do' 'got to go grade papers' and 'whatever' after Zira's admonishing. 

Zira and Professor Nelson are left alone in the lounge. “I'm sorry Zira, I should have said something when they started in on Professor Crowley. It's not right what they're saying. I'll try to stop them if I hear any talk like that again.” The older woman pats his arm and leaves the room too.

Zira forgets what he even came in the lounge for in the first place.

* * *

Crowley looks rundown when Zira sees him that afternoon for tutoring. 

It is sparse today. Just the mandatory students show up. Crowley makes a beeline to the desk next to Warlock. Zira is thankful that Newt and Anathema start out assisting Sandalphon because he doesn't know if he'd be able to be particularly pleasant with him after the past couple days. That leaves Zira with Dagon.

He sits down with her and tries to work with her on her homework. She spends a good hour an hour staring at Crowley and not paying attention. “Dagon please do concentrate, lets get your vocabulary done.”

“Hard to concentrate Professor Phell, there's a snake here.”

Zira quirks his head, confused by her words. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Him.” She jerks her head in Crowley's direction.

“Do you mean Professor Crowley? Because I can assure you anything you've heard is just...”

She doesn't let him finish. “It makes sense though, something strange 'bout him, off... eyes always covered, moves like he's only recently learned to walk, I think he's a snake or a rat.”

“Young lady it is highly inappropriate to speak about a teacher like that. I will be informing the Assistant Dean and don't be surprised if your parents hear about how you've been speaking.” Zira has had enough of all of this and where once he may have been lenient and given her a warning today he's going to report her. 

“Oh they already know.” She says unbothered. 

Her words and demeaner leave Zira befuddled. “just finish, finish up your work please.”

He gets up and moves to the front of the room and sits at Crowley's desk. Crowley is still working with Warlock and looks content explaining hereditary traits and recessive genes.

Zira hopes all this mess with the rumors and Crowley blows over soon. 

* * *

After tutoring ends they head to get dinner together. It has really become something of the routine over the semester. They have been eating together most nights. Zira enjoys Crowley's company. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they just sit together and read or get a head start on grading. Usually it is peaceful.

Tonight when Crowley and Zira step into the dining hall and the atmosphere in the room shifts. Students start whispering and looking in their direction.

Zira looks around trying to smile politely at everyone as they cross the hall to get to the food.

Crowley seems to Zira to be pointedly ignoring all of it, he walks with his head and his eyes forward. Once they get clear of the student tables chatter starts up again and the tension eases.

Zira breaths easier.

Crowley doesn't look like he's breathing, he looks so tightly wound he might pop a spring. Zira reaches out and touches him on the elbow, to reassure him. Crowley looks back at him with a pained look on his face. He looks overwhelmed.

Zira directs his attention to the table with the food. That's one of the best ways Zira knows to take care of someone. Crowley follows him closely. Zira starts to prepare a plate and notices after getting some chicken and peas that Crowley isn't fixing a plate for himself. He's just standing looking at the table arms crossed around his middle.

“The rotisserie smells good and the rolls are fresh.” Zira comments, trying to keep things light and positive as best he can. “The cooks have out down themselves I think. If the tea is still hot then this meal will be one for the record books.”

Crowely's mouth pulls at the corners like he might smile but his lips never turn upwards.

“...I don't think I'm very hungry tonight.” He says and Zira notices Crowley's arms wrap a little tighter around his stomach. Zira can certainly understand with all thats been happening why Crowley might loose his appetite.

Zira sets his plate down on the table. “Would you like to see the nurse, if you're not feeling well perhaps she has something that could help.”

Crowley looks over his shoulder back towards the students. “I don't think the nurse can help.”

Zira is sympathetic. “Will you have a cup of tea? Something to keep your strength up.”

Just as Crowley looks like he might agree someone in the hall drops a cup or a plate. All Zira knows is something shatters, there is a ruckus and Crowley startles and his last nerve shreds. He jumps and turns towards the noise and must misstep.

Zira sees the pain flash across his face. Zira reaches out to steady him. Crowley waves a hand to stop him. “It's fine.” He steadies himself on the table. After a second he seems to come to a decision. “I think I'm just going to go home to bed.”

Zira nods, silently cursing the ill timing of broken dishes. “Please take something to eat.” 

Crolwey starts to decline, Zira can see it in his face. He quickly grabs a napkin and wraps a roll and an apple in it and hands the bundle to Crowley.

He takes it and nods. “have a good night Zira.”

When Crowley moves again his steps are stiff and Zira can only equate that with pain.

Zira is left wondering what he should do, dinner doesn't sound near as appetizing now but he's already fixed his plate and doesn't want to waste the food. He takes it and sits alone in the faculty hall and grades some paper and eats what he can before heading home for the night.

* * *

When Zira leaves most of the students have cleared out of the hall and it's just the kitchen staff and maids tidying up. Zira makes sure to politely say good night to them as he leaves.

It is quite dark out when he gets outside. There's not much of a moon out, the street lamps along his path help a bit. He's taken about two steps out of the building when a pair of boots pick up his pace.

“Where's your compatriot tonight?” It's Ligur who Zira finds leering at him when he looks back.

“Crowley has gone home for the night.” He says and keeps walking. Ligur keeps just a step behind Zira, just enough to set Zira on edge. 

“Funny, these days the two of you always seem to be together, where one is the other's sure to follow. Maybe you've gotten wise. Let him go... his own way.” 

“What do you mean by that?” The statement certainly doesn't sound like friendly advice to Zira.

“I mean, if you want to make it here, you best find new friends.”

Zira stops in his tracks, processing what's just been said to him.

Ligur keeps walking, giving no explanation for his words, he soon disappearing down another sidewalk.

Zira feels like the darkness around him is creeping into his heart. He gets a chill and he can't help but think. 'There is something rotten in the state of Denmark.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more written, it needs to be typed and edited. I am still furiously writing to get to a resolution. 
> 
> Just wanted to let everyone know I'm in the process of packing up my house and moving and starting classes for a new semester all this next week, So I will be writing and hopefully I'll get stuff posted but it might take a little longer. Because Craziness. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and hanging with me. I appreciate you and hope you're having a lovely weekend!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira tries to do something proactive with all the Craziness. The Assistant Dean is... helpful? Crowley surprises Zira. Ducks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is having a nice week! Here's a short one, quickly edited. If there are glaring errors please let me know. I will be going back over it. I just so wanted to get something up.

[Some Art ](https://mj-irl.tumblr.com/post/187179951927/1927-all-human-professor-au-slides-of-stars)of Zira and Crowley for the story 

Zira decides to use his lunch hour to go and speak with the Assistant Dean about Dagon's behavior in tutoring yesterday and well if in talking about all the strangeness this week Ligur's words to him come up Zira figures that couldn't hurt.

Zira walks quickly across the campus to the admin building and straight into the office the secretary greets him.

“Can I assist you with something Professor Phell?”

“I would like to speak with the Assistant Dean.”

“Dean Etron is in a meeting right now.”

“Well do you think it will take very long? I have something important to discuss.”

The secretary leans across the desk like she's about to tell Zira a secret. “Is it about Professor Crowley?”

“Excuse me?” Zira is taken aback.

“Oh, there have been calls this week. Professor Crowley is who the Dean has in with him now.”

“Oh my... oh my doesn't he... what about his class?”

“The class is being covered.”

That can't be good. The administration wouldn't choose to pull a teacher out of class like that unless it was important. 'oh dear' 'oh dear'

“I'll just, just wait for a bit.”

“Suit yourself.”

Zira takes a seat outside the Assistant Dean's office. Just like he has on his first day here. This time though he can't hear any of whats being said inside.

Zira sits and waits and waits and watches the clock on the wall across the room. The hour tics by, Zira shifts in his chair. He wishes he's brought a book with him.

It's getting a bit late in the period. Zira's wondering if he'll just have to give up any chance to eat something when the door to the office opens.

The Assistant Dean opens the door and Crowley steps through it.

“We will get this sorted Professor, I think this weekend will be a good cooling off time for all parties involved.”

Crowley looks miserable, there's a deep frown plastered on his face and his shoulders droop. “Alright Dean.”

He exits and walks right past Zira, not seeming to notice him sitting there.

Zira starts to say something to him, to go after him but the Assistant Dean has noticed his presences. “Professor Phell did you need to see me?”

“Yes Dean, I just don't have much time I need to get back to class. Lunch is nearly over.”

“Well come in.” The Assistant Dean sounds tired. Zira follows him in and doesn't sit, there's no time.

“I wanted to let you know the one of the second year students in tutoring, Dagon, was saying some rather inappropriate things about a faculty member yesterday.”

“There's been quite a lot of that over the last few days.” The Assistant Dean sits in his desk chair with a huff.

“I know sir, it's been very unpleasant and some of the staff... some of the staff Sir have said some off things. The head of Security Mr. Ligur, he stopped me last night.”

The Assistant Dean raised an eyebrow. “And what were you doing?”

Zira blinks “I was walking home from the dining hall.”

“Late I'm sure, I imagine he deemed it necessary to speak with anyone out on campus late, just doing his job.”

“Yes, I understand... but it's what he said sir...”

“I think you should be getting back Professor, the bell is about to sound.”

“Oh...” Zira finds the clock on the wall behind him. “Oh, well about the Dagon?”

“Leave something in writing with the front desk. We will be getting all this sorted.”

Zira feels uneasy about the Assistant Dean's words, they seem a bit ominous. Zira stops at the front desk and jots down a brief description of what Dagon had said to him. The he walks quickly back fot his classroom. He gets there just as the students are filing in.

He is thankful when the final bell of the day rings.

Zira head to Crowley's classroom and finds it dark and empty. He's surprised but figures he must have left quickly to get home after a rough day. Zira heads to Crowley's apartment, he knock and waits and waits and never hears a peep from inside.

Zira sighs, perhaps Crowley is past wanting to talk.

He debates if he wants to head to the dining hall or home. He decides to head home first and grab a book to take with him. He crosses the campus and rounds the side of the library building to his entrance. As he does he fumbles to get his keys out of his jacket pocket.

'Of course he drops them', he thinks bitterly, that's just how things are going this week.

He mutters to himself about being clumsy as he picts them up. When he straightens and looks towards his door he jumps seeing a figure he didn't expect standing there.

Crowley's leaning on his door jamb.

“Fancy a walk Angel?”

“I... sure. I'll just...” Zira unlocks his door and put his briefcase inside on the step and re-locks the door behind him. “Ready.”

Crowley nods and turns, starting down the side walk away from the library. Really away from most other things on campus, opposite direction from the dining hall, the academic building, the dorms and the church.

Zira walked a bit in this direction during the first week of classes. Exploring. It's a nice walk. There are trees along the sidewalk and bushes, it gets rather wooded the closer one walks towards the Dean's house. That is the one major thing in this direction. There's some sheds, an old stable, and the Dean's home, which she's not been in all semester. Off on a sabbatical Zira had learned, doing research.

Crowley is quiet, he sets the pace and the mood. Zira matches him, stepping along side of him and not saying much. Zira enjoys the scenery, and the rhythmic sound of their footsteps and Crowley's cane tapping on the pavement.

There are no students around, it's calm. Zira can't help but look around for Hastur and Ligur, hoping they aren't hanging around near by. They were the last people he wanted to see right now.

It's quiet as they walk but Zira wouldn't describe it as awkward. It really seems comfortable.

They stroll along and the sun starts to go down. It's a warm clear autumn night.

They walk past the brick Georgian Dean's house and Zira admires it's stately presence. They walk a little ways further and Crowley points at something off the sidewalk. Zira looks to find a gap in the bushes and what looks to be a shell path.

Crowley steps onto the path and tentatively, with careful steps and cane placement, follows it. Zira follows him not knowing where it leads but trusting Crowley.

They follow the white shells into the woods.

Once Zira can't see easily back to the sidewalk the woods open up and Zira sees a small pond with a bench and rocks and even a few ducks on the water.

“Oh, how lovely, I didn't know this was here!” He look around at the quaint scene, taking it all in. “Are we behind the Dean's house?”

Crowley sits a the bench, he hums and nods in confirmation.

Zira watches the ducks and thinks how nice and relaxing they are to watch. “How did you know about this?”

“She let me feed the ducks...” Crowley nods towards the pond and has an air of fondness about him.

“The Dean did?” Zira's brain tries to fathom when and how that would happen. He doesn't remember interacting with the Dean much when he was a student here.

“I thought when she asked me to come back I'd understand. But I... I don't understand why this is happening.”

“When she asked you?” Zira looks back at Crowley now with an examining eye, as if he's seeing him again for the first time. “Were you hired by the Dean? The Dean asked you to come teach here!?” Zira didn't know the Dean took an active role in things like hiring, sure she signed off on people but it sounds like she actively recruited Crowley.

Crowley's mouth gets tight. “She asked me to come back, to teach here... here of all places and then where is she? Not here. Who knows where...”

“France, I think.”

“Off to bloody France and here I am and parents are calling the school 'with concerns.'” He says snidely. “about me. Me... what did I do except try to teach their children?”

Zira can hear the hurt and frustration all bubbling up and out of Crowley. “Is that what the Assistant Dean said today, that parents were calling?”

“How did you know...” Crowley hangs his head with a groan. “is everything gossip around here...”

“No...no... I was there. This afternoon, in the main office waiting to see Dean Etron when you left. You didn't see me, you looked, well, upset.” Zira sits down on the bench next to Crowley.

“I... it wasn't even just Michal and Gabriel and the other from the Dinner... Beelzebub.” Crowley's voice wavers. “It was other parents too, all the rumors flying around since, I don't know, since Sandaphon the other day and everybody is talking and parents are upset.”

There's a breeze that blows through the trees and rustles the leaves around them. Zira gets a chill. “What did the Assistant Dean have to say?”

“That maybe with the weekend things would calm down.”

Zira nods, he heard that much earlier. “He didn't say anything else?”

“Just that he contacted the Dean.”

“Oh my.” The Assistant Dean must think the matter is serious. At least he's taking it more seriously than what Zira had to say to him earlier today.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Crowley asks, his voice is soft, just barely above a breath.

Zira leans over, his shoulder just barely touching Crowley's “Sometimes things happen and it's not for us to understand.”

Crowley leans a little closer to him. “Ha... yeah that's my life, just one ineffable mess to another.”

“You'll get through this, you'll see.” Zira makes sure to sound as confident as he can.

“Angel?”

Zira swallows around the lump forming in his throat. “Yes?”

“You're a lifesaver.”

Zira smiles to himself and shift just another fraction on the bench so their shoulders are without a doubt touching. The two of them sit together and watch the ducks. The sun goes down.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bottle a scotch and some Shakespeare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there are any glaring errors. Thanks for reading

The sun goes down and it gets dark.

Zira suddenly realizes just how dark. “I think it's time we were headed back, don't you.”

“... I guess we really can't see the ducks anymore” Crowley sounds halfway disappointed.

Crowley takes his dark glasses off and stands from the bench.

Zira follows him. They walk close. Closer than when they walked to the pond. Zira can feel when Crowley steps awkwardly or his cane lands oddly on the shell path. They are nearly back to the sidewalk when his step falters and and he reaches out to steady himself as Zira reaches out to steady him. Crowley catches Zira's arm and keeps himself from slipping further.

Once Crowley's got his feet and cane firmly on the ground he starts to let go of Zira's elbow.

“You can keep hold... if... if it helps.”

Crowley hesitates. It's a little hard to tell what he's thinking in the moonlight. Zira laments that he's got his glasses off and it's too dark to really see his eyes. Crowley's hand lessens it's grip but he doesn't let go, instead he turns back to the path and they continue walking.

Zira feels Crowley's hand tighten on his arm a couple times when Crowley's footing get unsure.

They make it out of the trees and back to the sidewalk. The lamps are lit on the path, lighting up their way. Crowley slips his glasses back on deftly. Zira only gets a glimpse of his eyes in the lamp light, they look tired.

Crowley lets go of Zira's arm with a nod and a bashful look before they both head towards the library.

At Zira's door they pause. “You're welcome, if you wanted to come up.”

“Aaahhh....” Crowley looks at the stairs that lead up to Zira's place.

Zira understands, “I know my dear, it seemed only polite to offer.”

Crowley stands looking, 'was that longing?' Zira wonders. He looks from the stairs to Zira and tilts his head. He looks hopeful, maybe bit unsure “We could go to my rooms...” and adds quickly. “To talk, talk some more.”

Zira smiles brightly, he wasn't ready to go up to his rooms yet by himself, not tonight. “To talk, yes of course... that would be nice.”

He starts to close his door again and lock it but pauses as a thought strikes him. “It's Friday.”

“Yes, All day and half the night.” Crowley says dryly.

“Ha yes, thank you.” Zira snarks back. “I mean to say, it's Friday so there's no classes tomorrow and I've got a bottle of scotch I've been meaning to open.”

Crowley perks up. “You're right there are no classes tomorrow.” There's a devilish grin forming on his face. Zira quite likes it.

He makes up his mind. “Wait here I'll get it.”

Zira is up and back in only a minute or so. He's got the bottle wrapped in his coat. “Shall we.”

* * *

They settle in Crowley's sitting room. He lights a small lamp on the desk in the corner of the room. Giving them just enough light or at least Zira just enough light to see. It's dim but cozy.

Zira sits on the edge of sofa and tips the bottle of scotch into one glass and then the other on the table in front of him. he hands one to Crowley who's sprawled out next to him.

Crowley shifts and re-situates his legs so Zira can sit back with his drink and join him.

“Cheers Angel..” He raises his glass. They both take a sip. Crowley grimaces “Smooth.” he croaks but takes another hasty sip.

“Yes, well it's not the fanciest but the burn is good, reminds you you're alive.”

“If it doesn't kill you.”

Zira tuts “There's no chance of that.”

Crowley gets a cheeky look on his face. “Or makes you blind.”

Zira thinks for a second “I make no guarantees, drink at your own risk.”

“Ha!” Crowley laughs out loud and lets another swallow burn his throat.

* * *

“So you think there really was a bear?” Crowley slurs. 

“Yes, yes I do... well I'm fairly certain. A bear cub most likely. Can you imagine?”

“There was really a bear!” Crowley slouches down further onto the sofa as they get further into Zira's' bottle. “That's just... fantastic.” Crowley smiles warmly. “Exit perused by bear” He snorts. “oh Shakespeare.” Crowley's head lulls to the side. “Our revels now are ended these our actors...” He starts to recite. Zira sits up a little straighter. “as I foretold you, were all spirits and melted into air, into thin air. And like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud – capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself – yea, all which it inherit – shall dissolve, and like the unsubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind...”

Zira gazes at Crowley, he's impressed and surprised and has a warm feeling through his body that could be the scotch or could be genuine adoration. “Prospero...” He breaths. “finish it.”

Crowley clears his throat. “we are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

“Act IV.i. Is that your favorite?”

Crowley relaxes back into the sofa and sits with both hands wrapped around his glass. “If we shadows have offended think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend if you pardon, we will mend: and as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, we will make a mends ere long; Else the puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” Crowley sighs.”I like the comedies best, what about you?”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

“ugh, Hamlet, really? The tragedies are sooo dreary.” Crowley sits up some and goes for the scotch and pours some for himself and sloshes some into Zira's glass.

“Oh, I think the 'dreary' ones really show us our humanity.” Zira defends but Crowley is unimpressed he does what Zira could only discribe as a full body eye roll. “Well than, how about... Once more unto the breach dear friends once more or close up the walls with our English dead! In times of peace there's nothing so becomes a man...” Zira takes a breath and Crowley jumps in.

“As modest stillness and humility. But when the blast of war sound in our ears. Imitate the actions of the tiger...”

“Stiffen up the sinews, conjure up the blood...”

“Disguise fair nature with hard favored rage.” Crowley sighs again with a bit more melancholy this time. “ha aaah, I really like Henry the IV better.”

Zira nods knowingly, “I'm not surprised, Falstaff is a fantastic character.”

“And funny, don't forget funny.”

“Of course... he is very human.”

Zira shifts forward to get the bottle off the table and pour another for them both but Crowley moves with a groan and sets is glass down.

“I better, better get these braces off before having another or I'll regret it in the morning.” He moves to the edge of the sofa and grabs his cane that was leaning against the side of the table. “Be back in a minute.” He stands and sways as the alcohol hits him. He moves slowly and keeps his free hand on the sofa for guidance as long as he can.

He makes it back to his bedroom, as Zira watches him go and closes the door behind him.

Zira sits on the sofa in a comfortable haze. He enjoys the warmth of the scotch and the tranquil lighting. He's thinking about how some prints for the walls would be a nice homey touch when he hears a yelp from the bedroom.

It's short and almost comical sounding but even in his pleasant buzzed state Zira is up in a flash. “Crowley, Crowley are you alright?” He asks the closed door.

There's a beat... a beat where Zira starts to panic before a reply comes. “Yeah, hum yes, could you bring me the crutches they're by the desk I think...”

Zira turns and looks and they are indeed leaning on the wall by the desk. 

“I’ll get them.” He calls. 

Zira goes to move and it’s not that he’s drunk. He wouldn’t say he was drunk. He’s still got his wits about him. He does however feel very tipsy and as he walks across the room it feels like his feet and his brain are not working together. It’s an almost floaty feeling. It’s not bad, but not helpful either.

As he gets the crutches he notices on the desk, lit up by the sole light, there’s a book open. He instantly recognizes it as the third of Crowley’s books. The journal from after his accident. 

It’s open to a page that Zira didn’t see before. 

He stands mesmerized for a second at the swirling star design. His eyes follow one curve after another, circling around the page. Zira and his pleasantly scotch soaked brain stand compelled by the drawing. 

Something in the back of his mind starts to nag him. He squints hard trying to unlock the part of his brain that can tell him why he’s getting a feeling of familiarity from the drawing. It’s just not coming to him. He feels like it’s right there if only he could just think a little harder.

“Zira?” a small voice calls, it’s familiar too.

Zira jumps, he forgot what he was doing. “Oh Crowley, coming!” Zira pulls his eyes from the page and grabs the crutches he needed to get to Crowley.

Zira knocks on the closed door before opening it. 

Crowley is sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt un-tucked suspenders pulled up over and slightly askew, so is his hair which is falling in his face. 

The room is as bare as the other rooms. There’s a bed with a pillow and a quilt, a dresser, a table with a small lamp on it and a chair. No real personal items, except draped on the chair at the moment are the two metal leg braces with leather straps.

Crowley looks sheepish. “Sorry, I forgot to grab them and I’m a little…” He hiccups uncomfortably. “Had a little too much to drink to use just a cane without the braces.” He looks like he found that out the hard way, Zira thinks as he sees him rub his left knee. Probably why he yelped. 

“It’s not a problem. I’m happy to help.” Zira holds the crutches out. He notices even though he’s in quite a state of undress now, Crowley has got his shoes on. 

They are well kept, polished and shined black leather lace up boots. They look good on him. Judging by what Crowley has, or well, doesn’t have, Zira figures they are probably his only pair. 

Crowley takes the crutches and pushes up off the bed using them for support and balance. He stands and puts his weight on them. “I think I could use another drink…”

Zira starts to agree but his stomach cuts him off as it growls loudly. 

“Maybe we should find something to eat first…” Zira had totally forgotten they’d skipped dinner. 

Crowley nods. “We need to go to the kitchen.” Crowley rocks slightly forward and back on this crutches.

“What? You mean your kitchen?”

“nooo, I’ve not got anything to eat in there.”

“How am I not surprised.” Zira slurs.

“Rude, Angel.” Crowley makes a snide face at him. “No, the kitchen, we need to go to THE kitchen.”

“Oh… oh like sneak in.”

“Well we hardly have to sneak in, we just need to open the door. We’ll grab some food… just what we would have eaten anyway, had we gone to dinner.”

“Of course.” Zira agrees adamantly. “You’re right.”

“Come on, this way.” Crowley leads the way out of his bedroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My SO has moved across the country for a new job, I’m left to move the house, and I’m starting a new semester wish me luck. Comments are encouraging. I’m gonna get this done


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunken kitchen raid and the morning following

Zira follows Crowley through the sitting room to the kitchenette.

Crowley uses his crutches like he's well practiced, Zira blinks as his brain supplies him with the fact, that obviously Crowley is practiced at using them. He's been using them since he was young, obviously.

Zira pauses in the doorway to the kitchen, as he lectures himself in his head about how practice makes perfect and Crowley is perfect... wait that's not quite what he meant to think... oh dear...

“You coming Angel?” Crowley whispers over his shoulder and Zira shakes himself out of his thoughts... he shouldn't do that again the world went a little wobbly.

Crowley opens the connecting door to the kitchen a fraction and peaks through. “It's dark, no one's in...” He whispers in a rather loud and dramatic fashion. He maneuvers back with his crutches and opens the door fully.

Zira stands at the threshold and blinks into the dark kitchen. He's been in the kitchen a fair number of times now, the same could not be said of Crowley, who asks, talking rather louder than he probably should be “Which way to the larder?”

Zira points in the general direction. Crowley gives him a nod and they go ahead with the plan. Zira crouches down a bit as he goes, because it feels like the thing to do, inadvertently exaggerating the fact that they're sneaking in.

Zira shushes every squeaky floorboard, every breath of his own that seems too loud.

Crowley, for his part, bends his left knee and just uses his right leg and the crutches to move instead of walking with the crutches for support like he had in his rooms. He's bit faster moving this way as Zira guides them through to the larder.

The kitchen is dark but Crowley's rooms with only the one lamp lit were fairly dark too so Zira's eyes adjust quickly and he doesn't have too much trouble making out what's on the shelves.

He grabs some crackers, cheese, and apples as Crowley stands guard at the larder door.

“Have you got sssomething?” Crowley hisses over his shoulder, he sounds like he's starting to get nervous.

Zira nods absently and then realizes Crowley can't see him, he's facing the other direction, out into the kitchen. “I've got it, I just... there's one more thing...”

“You're not packing a picnic Angel, anything will do, I'm not picky.”

Zira huffs at that, there's only one thing he's seen Crowley seem to enjoy eating. He breaths out under his breath “Where are those biscuits ...”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Zira calls back innocently. Then he realizes Mrs. Strathmore didn't get the biscuits from the larder she'd gone to the cupboard for them.

Zira hurries out of the storage room and before Crowley can shush him for making too much noise he holds out all the things. “Will you hold these?”

“What?... I... alright” Crowley looks dumbfounded but holds out his arms. Zira hands over the things. It's really not that much, just enough for the two of them but he couldn't hold the loose apples and crackers and try to open the cabinets.

“Won't take a tic.” Zira turns quickly and promptly runs into a bucket on the floor, causing him to stumble and it to making a scraping and a banging.

Zira's eyes go wide and his heart pounds as he holds his breath. Nothing happens in the seeming hour he stands like a statue, so Zira relaxes and lets out a breath.

“Get what you need and lets go.” Crowley urges him.

“Just one more thing.” Zira steps around the bucket this time and nearly hits his head on a hanging pot but catches himself just in a nick of time. He moves around it and chances a glance back at Crowley. Crowley is standing with his hands full looks from one window to the next, being diligent in his duties.

Zira opens one cabinet and then another and finally sees what he's looking for. It’s a square tin, he pulls it off the shelf and nearly fumbles it, he catches it just before it clatters to the counter.

He can hear Crowley hiss behind him.

He holds the tin tight and pries open the lid. The lovely smell of ginger hits him and he couldn't be more pleased.

He takes two biscuits and quickly replaces the tin.

“I've got it, lets go.” He whispers triumphantly.

“zira...”

He takes Crowley's call as a warning to be more quiet and so he starts to carefully make his way back towards the door. That is until he realizes Crowley's not moving to the door too.

He's got his hands full, he can't move.

Zira abruptly realizes his mistake and quickly hurries to his side. “Oh, my dear, hand it over. I'm sorry I didn't think.”

Crowley passes their loot to Zira and is able to hold the handgrips of his crutches again. “No harm Angel, I know you wouldn't leave me here all night, you would have missed me eventually.”

Zira blushes at the cheeky remark.

Crowley rocks back on the crutches, “lets get out of here.”

Zira agrees. Zira get through to the kitchenette first, holds the door open for Crowley and then shuts it as softly as his adrenaline with let him.

They both stand quiet and still, listening for a second. No one comes. Their heist is a success.

Zira starts to giggle. Crowley starts to shush him but can't help but start laughing too. “We should take all our meals this way, really gets the blood pumping, has to be good for the constitution.”

“I don't... I don't think I want to do that again... my nerves can't take it...” Zira catches his breath.

“What was so important in the cabinets?” One of Crowley's eyebrows raises quizzically.

Zira shifts the things in his hands and holds out the two ginger biscuits to Crowley. “I thought you'd like these.”

“Ginger... why... how did you know I...” He quirks his head curiously. “you got them for me?” His voice starts to get very small. Zira is afraid he may have upset him for a moment, but it seems it's the scotch talking. “Ohhh I've had too much...” Crowley breaths out raggedly. “Lets have another, shall we.”

“I think we shall!” Zira carries their feast into the sitting room to lay the spread out on the table, Crowley follows at his heels.

* * *

Zira wakes up with a content sigh. Light is filtering in through the curtains and Zira thinks absently 'It's morning.'

He sleepily looks around, not sure where he is at first. He looks to his left and to his right. He's not in his bed. He's not in a bed. He's on the floor, leaning up against a sofa. Crowley's sofa.

Zira blinks to clear his eyes and his head. He's uncertain how he got on the floor, one thing he's certain of is that the empty up turned bottle of scotch on the table in front of him probably had something to do with it.

He starts to move from his position but when he moves over to get up he hears a moan and realizes that the weight on his side isn't a heavy goose down pillow or a quilt but rather Crowley leaned up against him.

Zira smiles fondly down at the auburn head on his shoulder, and wonders again how they wound up here. the other man is sleeping peacefully, arms crossed over his chest, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Oh my the night got away from us...” Zira comments softly.

The dull throbbing starting in his head is reminding him that he may have over done it. He's feeling the effects of the scotch now. He swallows uncomfortably. He really needs a glass of water.

“Crowley, dear... hum dear boy, it's morning.” Zira wiggles his shoulder gently to try and rouse the redhead

“ngk...” the reply he gets is inarticulate but Zira can grasp the meaning. 'it's too early, we were up too late, with too much booze involved.'

“I know, I know...” He says sympathetically. “but if you wake up just a bit, we can move you someplace more comfortable, off the floor.”

Crowley stirs, lifting his head off of Zira and sitting up. His glasses are more than askew they are practically falling off his face. Zira reaches over and straightens them for him. The morning light isn't bright, but the hangover he was probably experiencing wouldn't help with his sensitivity, Zira was certain of that. It wouldn't do to have Crowley hurt or uncomfortable now.

“Let's get you on the sofa... will that be alright?”

Crowley's head lulls back onto the seat of the sofa and he says something that sounds like an affirmative. He starts to push himself up with a groan but winds up not getting very far, his arms get him pushed up a bit but his legs don't want to cooperate at all, they find no purchase on the floor in his half asleep, hungover state.

“whoa whoa, let me help.”

Zira isn't sure if Crowley should or even can get up from this position, it could be a strain on his legs. Zira definitely doesn't want Crowley to hurt himself doing something as silly as getting up off the floor after a night of drinking.

He positions himself down at Crowley's side and gets one of Crowley's arms over his shoulder, he puts one arm at Crowley's back and raised him slightly so he could get his other arm under Crowley's legs.

"Up you get." 

It isn't a full bridal carry, Zira doesn't have to pick him all the way up off the ground. He just needed to help get Crowley scooted up onto the sofa.

They accomplish it without too much moaning or groaning. Picking Crowley up is easier than lifting a stack of encyclopedias, Zira has little trouble. 

Crowley doesn't seem bothered, nearly as soon as his bottom hits the seat he's laying his head down on the arm of the sofa.

Zira worries that the sofa is going to be too short and cramped for Crowley. He is tall. But Crowley gets his legs up on the cushion and then curls up on his side.

“Oh, before you fall asleep, let me get you some water.” Zira moves swiftly to the kitchenette to get a glass of water from the tap, not swiftly enough though, Crowley is snoring softly when he gets back.

Zira places the glass on the table by the sofa and leans over Crowley with another concern. “Can I... do you... want your glasses off?” He doesn't mean to be a bother but they look like they might bend in the position they're in on the armrest.

Crowley's snoring stops with a snort, it strikes Zira as unimaginably cute. “Hey sorry... I'm sorry to wake you again but do you want your glasses off?”

Crowley pushes his back into the sofa and turns his sleepy face up towards Zira. He tries to untangle an arm from where it's wrapped around him, to get his glasses off. But his coordination hasn't returned yet. 

“Just relax, I've got them, they'll be here on the table for you with the water when you wake.” Zira gently slides the glasses off Crowley. He spies a sliver of golden brown before Crowley's eyes are shut again and he's relaxing down into the sofa with a sigh.

Zira folds the glasses and sets them where he said he would.

He wants to throw a blanket over Crowley but he doesn't see one, he knows there's one on the bed but he doesn't want to unmake the bed to get it. He settles for draping Crowley's overcoat which was hanging by the door, over Crowley's curled up frame.

He lets Crowley sleep and he decides to tidy up a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man sometimes I get stuck on the fluff... up next is angst, I know it, I feel it. It's coming... Gabriel is going to show up. I think... that's the plan.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira Tidies, Crowley sleeps, then Gabriel happens

Crowley's crutches are on the floor near where he was sitting when they woke up. Zira picks them up and leans them on the table where Crowley can see and reach them when he wakes up again.

Then Zira quietly collects the empty bottle of scotch and takes the glasses they used into the kitchenette to be washed.

He gets his own glass of water and drinks it all down. He had forgotten how thirsty he was. The water tasted like heaven, he sighs with relief.

He scrubs all the glasses in the sink, dries them and puts them in the cabinet next to the sink where Crowley has a few glasses and plates and a bowl.

He putters around, straightening this and that and then goes back into the sitting room. He moves as quietly as he can. Crowley's breathing remains even and he doesn't seem to notice as Zira wipes the crumbs from the coffee table into the rubbish bin.

It looks like they had quite a feast at some point in the night. Zira has a hazy recollection of digging through a cabinet. He knows it wasn't Crowley's cabinet.

That concerns him.

The realization that they must have gone into the kitchen next door comes to him. Zira's head give an extra sharp pain behind his eyes.

It wasn't against the rules for them to be in the kitchen after hours. They were faculty and they were privy to the facilities of the campus, including food when they needed it.

But he hopes against hope they didn't make any trouble.

Crowley's rooms aren't in bad shape, so Zira feels confident they weren't being rowdy. He'll have to stick his head in the kitchen at some point today... maybe he could bring some flowers, just in case anything was amiss.

Zira looks around the sitting room to see if there is anything else to be done. He notices that the lamp on the desk is still burning. “Oh Dear!”

He can't believe they left it burning. It's a fire hazard and very irresponsible of them. Of course he reasons, it was burning very low last night, it was never more than dim in the room and it's easy to understand how they could have forgotten about it when they fell asleep.

It's still burning low, easy to miss with the morning light coming in through the windows.

It's burned up nearly all of the oil and most of the wick. Zira goes to it and means to turn the nob to turn the wick down so the flame will extinguish itself but as soon as he touches it he pulls his fingers back with a yelp.

He looks quickly over at the sofa, finding Crowley undisturbed he sheepishly puts his burnt finger in his month and mentally admonishes himself 'that was stupid, of course it's hot!'

He marvels at the fact that some how Crowley looks more asleep than he did before, completely relaxed down into the sofa and snuggled into the coat.

Zira leans over the lamp gingerly this time, careful not to touch and manages to blow down the chimney and put the flame out.

The dangerous work done Zira relaxes, His finger still smarts. He shakes his hand a bit to try and stop the pain.

As he's trying to distract himself can't help but spy off to the side of the lamp, Crowley's journal still open on the desk. He remembers seeing it the night before and the feeling it gave him of familiarity. This morning Zira reaches out and runs his fingers along the spirals of circles and stars and it hits him. It's like a bolt out of the blue. What he couldn't seem to piece together last night.

The drawing on this page... bares a strong resemblance to the one Brian had been drawing on his classwork.

The one that had Zira convinced his students were up to something and the one Crowley had reacted to when he'd seen it.

Zira had meant to follow up on it with them, the students, but all the mess with Sandalphon and Dagon and the rumors about Crowley had distracted him.

Where in the world would the children have seen this design?

Zira decides he'll have to ask them. Maybe finding out where they'd seen it would help Crowley understand why he drew it all those years ago. Zira decides to see about tracking the kids down today. Right now he needs to get back to his rooms so he can freshen up and change his clothes.

Zira grabs his coat from the hook by the door. “I'm going now Dear, I'll see you later.” He stage whispers from the door, pretty sure Crowley is 'dead to the world' and not hearing him. Still it would feel funny if he left and didn't say anything.

Zira takes one last look around the room to make sure he hasn't missed anything. Then he ducks out the door and closes it behind him as quietly as he can.

Satisfied he's got the door latched and not woken Crowely Zira turns to get on with his day and nearly walks right into Gabriel.

“Ooh! I didn't... didn't see you there.” Or hear you coming. It was like Gabriel had popped up out of nowhere.

“What are you doing here?” The older man asks in a strangely accusatory tone.

“Excuse me?” Zira doesn't know what to make of the question and isn't sure he likes it. It's none of his business what Zira did.

The man continues to stand there looking bewildered by Zira's presence. “You were told to find new friends.” Gabriel's eyes narrow as Zira's get wide.

“How did you know...” Ligur had said that to him a few days ago.

“What's your name again?” The man studies him like Zira thinks a shark must look at it's prey. “Phell isn't it. How apropos.” Gabriel chuckles to himself.

“Apropos of... what?” Zira can't figure his meaning, was he using apropos to mean 'relating to a topic' if so what topic? or was he using apropos incorrectly meaning 'appropriate' or even more incorrectly by shortening 'apropos of nothing' meaning inappropriate or unrelated as many people did. It's very confusing statement for him to make.

“Just things.” Gabriel continues to be amused with himself.

“What... what does that mean?” Zira is finding none of this funny. He just wants to get home but he doesn't want to leave Gabriel here in front of Crowley's door. He remembers the Gabriel was one of the ones who upset Crowley at the Fall Harvest Dinner. Gabriel just shrugs and doesn't move on. “Can I help you with something?” Zira finally asks.

“No. Well you could get out of my way. I'm here to speak with Crawly.”

“His name is Crowley.” Zira corrects with the patiences of a rather put off saint.

“Whatever.” Gabriel scoffs and Zira feels his head pounding again. “Aren't these his rooms.”

“They are, yes.”

“Good, then move and let me get on with my business.”

This is not what Crowley needs first thing, waking him up, not after the week he's had. Zira tries to curb Gabriel's course of action.

“I'm not sure this is proper. Perhaps you should come back on Monday when the Assistant Dean is in and make an appointment to speak with Dean Etron and Professor Crowley.” That would certainly be how someone would typically meet with a teacher to talk.

Gabriel gets very still and his eyes get dark. “Look here,” He says lowly. “You're a professor, right. You're suppose to be smart. Well, I'm a donor and a paying parent here. Can your brain wrap around that? That means, genius, I pay your salary and you... you don't tell me what to do.”

“I... I'm not sure that's quite right.” this is getting very awkward, standing in front of Crowley's door having an odd encounter with a man who has some authority but not nearly as much as he thinks. “Also, Professor Crowley is well... not available at the moment.”

That should have stopped any polite gentleman. Any reasonable person. But Gabriel doesn't even seem to consider leaving. Zira tries once more to appeal to his common decency. “Please, respectfully, I would like to ask you to come back this week and make an appointment with the administration if there's something you feel you need to discuss with Professor Crowley.”

“Just move out of my way will you. Just move. This has nothing to do with you.”

“I say it does.” Zira holds his ground as Gabriel steps into his space.

The taller man leers over him. “Well, Mr. Literature Professor I don't think you understand the meaning of nothing...”

Zira blinks. The words are threatening but also confusing. Zira is debating whether he should be more scared or confused or just irritated with the insufferable man when the door behind him opens smartly.

Crowley's door!

“Zira?” a sleepy voice comes from behind him.

Zira perks up and turns over his shoulder to see Crowley standing in the doorway with a bewildered look on his face. “Gabriel? What's going on on my doorstep?”

“Ahh there you are, I was just talking about you with your associate.” Gabriel steps back out of Zira's personal space with a sickeningly artificial smile plastered on his face. Zira turns from him with a sour look on his own face.

“I've actually come to have a word with you, why don't we talk inside.” It's a statement not a question.

Crowley doesn't acknowledge that. “Actually, I think it's rather nice out here.” He steps out into the brisk fall morning air and shuts his door behind him. Zira sees he's still in his shirt sleeves and definitely still the shirt he slept in.

He keeps one hand on the door jamb. He makes the posture look nonchalant. Zira is fairly certain it's not, for a number of reasons.

Gabriel looks over his shoulder does not liking what he's seeing. The Campus was awake now and students were moving about the ground. “We should go inside.”

“I don't think so.” Crowley doesn't move.

“Look Crawly.” Gabriel says under his breath.

“Crowley.” Both Zira and Crowley quickly correct.

“Eeeehh” Gabriel makes a face at being corrected and seems to not care. “Look, I've got children that go to school here and the little tykes are, well they have been upset by you, your presence here.”

Zira wants yell, wants to point out that that is ridiculous. He starts to open his mouth but Crowley's fingers brushing the back of his hand distract him, he looks to Crowley and gets the smallest of head shakes. He holds his tongue and Gabriel continues.

“Frankly you being here is a disruption. I think you should do the responsible thing and leave. Leave on your own. Just resign before I get the Dean involved. She won't be happy to hear from me, a parent and a donor, that one of the new teachers is causing problems...” He adds quickly. “for the students.”

Zira looks back and forth between the two men. Gabriel looks smug like he's just played his best card. Crowley, for the most part, looks unchanged. On closer inspection, the set of his jaw makes Zira think he's actually more mad than anything. Zira thinks he's got every right to be.

Crowley breaths in and out and when he speaks it is in a miraculously calm manor. “Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention Gabriel. At this time I do not think my resigning is the answer. I think if you have concerns for your children you should set up a meeting with the assistant dean and discuss the matter with him.”

Gabriel scoffs, he gestures dramatically with both arms out in a way that says snidely 'can you believe this' “Yeah no, I think we're past that, little Sandalphon and Dagon have been traumatized by this whole business.” Gabriel gestures generally at Crowley. Zira feels his blood start to boil. “The only reasonable thing to do is for you to put in your papers and ...”

“Wait,” Zira feels like he needs to back up and address something in this whole mess of a conversation. “Are they both yours? Both Sandalphon and Dagon? I didn't know they were brother and sister. They don't have the same last name.”

“They're half siblings.” Gabriel explains with a huff, like it should be common knowledge for everyone. “They have different mothers.”

“But they're so close in age...” Zira points out.

Gabriel expression goes from irritation to looking like he's the cat that got the canary. “There was a war on lads,” He smiles in a way that could be interpreted at cheeky, “perhaps you remember... or well, maybe you don't. I did my part, in War and at home... you know repopulating and all that” The look he's got on is smug and smarmy.

All Zira can think is 'eeew' His thoughts are mirrored on Crowley's face.

Gabriel's expression starts to turn dark when he doesn't get the reaction from either of them that he must usually get. He glares at the two of them. “They are my children and I won't have their schooling disrupted by some...” The word out of his mouth next was probably going to be a foul one but Zira interrupts him again.

“Wait... the business this week, it... it started with Sandalphone, it seems to me. He said he was repeating what he'd heard at home. Dagon too said she was saying things her parents already knew. It seems to me the disruption is coming from... well you.”

No sooner had the words left Zira's mouth than Gabriel had his finger poking in Zira's chest.

“You listen here, you don't want to get involved with this Phell.”

“Leave Him!” Crowley calls with a note of desperation to his voice.

Zira stays focused on the scary man in front of him but he can sense Crowley wants to do something.

He just hopes he doesn't do anything stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for an update next week. I'm still packing, still moving, still writing and typing. More is on it's way.
> 
> *Comments are encouraging at any time!  
If you’re new totally say hi! If you’re a long time reader say hi! I love to hear from you!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst like I said but also Whump!

“Leave him alone.” Crowley growls.

Gabriel's attention turns to him even as he stands menacingly close to Zira. “What are you even going to do String Bean? It looks like you can't even hold your liquor, much well hold up in a fight. What did you tie one on last night? You can't even stand up straight.” Gabriel must notice Crowley's leaning against the door isn't just him trying to appear unconcerned. “I had some professors in my day who liked the hair of the dog in the morning, but they could handle it... like men. DO you go to class like this, all sloppy and uncoordinated?”

Zira's stomach drops. He can see the writing on the wall, Gabriel is going to stop at nothing to get rid of Crowley and if one rumor won't do it, he'll start another. It's malicious.

“Stop, just stop!” Zira pleads. “That couldn't be further from the truth.”

“Zira...” Crowley cautions softly.

Zira can't hold his tongue, “I... I don't know what your problem with Crowley is Gabriel but I will not let you character assassinate my friend. He's a good man and a good teacher and frankly he's done nothing but try to help your children. We both have.”

Gabriel still stands over Zira. His attention is back fully on him and his words are punctuated by the jab of his finger into Zira's chest. “I. Do. Not. Care.”

Zira breathes out a shuttered breath.

He doesn't understand. He can't fathom how someone could just not care.

“What's all this then?” A new voice calls and Zira pulls his eyes away from Gabriel's cold gaze to see Ligur coming from around the corner of the kitchen. “I heard there were some professors having a row with a parent, how'd I know it'd be you two.”

“I've got it handled.” Gabriel says trying to wave Ligur off. “We're just have a little conversation about Professor Crowley here doing what's best for the school. It's all very civil, I assure you.”

“No it's not.” Crowley interjects. “It's a very uncivil conversation about how Gabriel here is planing to tell the dean about imaginary disruptions I've cause... by well, _existing._”

He's speaking plainly but Zira can hear the hurt in his words.

“I don't know about imaginary, seems you're being plenty disruptive right now.” Ligur joins them and stands next to Gabriel.

Zira is taken aback, but than he never should have thought Ligur would be on their side. “Please, I think we all just need to calm down and talk in a productive manor.” Zira tries to appeal to their reasonable sides. He feels Crowley behind him move a fraction closer to his side.

“and what are you even doing here?” Ligor asks looking Zira up and down.

Zira opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure what... he wants to say 'it's none of your business' but he doesn't get any words out before Gabriel is talking again. “He inserted himself in this conversation and has only made it contentious.”

“I have not!” Zira can't believe what he's hearing.

“Right lets go, you're coming with me.” Ligur demands, “We'll get this sorted.”

Zira freezes, this has turned very scary. “He's not done anything!” Crowley, incensed by the injustice, exclaims.

Ligur moves to grab Zira's arm and Crowley throws his left arm out in an attempt to place himself between Zira and Ligur.

Ligur slaps Crowley's hand down and takes Zira's arm.

“Ow!” Zira protests as Ligur clamps down on his elbow to make him move.

“Oi!” Crowley shouts. “don't!” Crowley attempts again to prevent Ligur taking Zira anywhere and he falls into Zira, who supports his as best he can with his one free hand, as he forces himself with a few staggering steps in between the two.

Ligur huffs and Zira can see the rage building in his eyes.

“Don't hurt him.” The words are Crowley's but they could have just as easily been Zira's

Zira sees in Ligur's face when he decides he's had enough of Crowley. “Right, you've done it now. You're coming too...”

He grabs hold of Crowley's arm and makes to move him like he's trying to move Zira.

Zira watches it happen like time has slowed down.

He sees what's happening, but he can't do anything to stop it.

Ligur pulls Crowley to him.

Crowley's weight shifts onto his left leg.

Zira can't move fast enough to help.

His knee buckles.

Zira can't stop him falling.

Crowley's knee hits the pavers and he crumples, crying out in pain.

Ligur jumps back startled, unsure about what's just happened. He lets go of Zira in his uncertainty.

Zira is at Crowley's side in a blink. He's at a loss, he doesn't know where to be or how to help.

Crowley is on his side, twisted around with his face pressed into the ground, sobbing into the bricks. Holding his injured knee tight to his chest.

He's in pain, the sobbing itself sounds painful like he can't breathe and he's choking. He's inconsolable, Zira wants to cry himself.

“What the hell, I only touched him.” Ligur tries to defend himself.

“No. You pulled him.” Zira pointedly corrects.

Gabriel somehow thinks it's all a joke. “Get up Crowley, this isn't the football pitch, no play acting is going to get you a time out.”

Zira glares at the other man. “He's really hurt you imbecile.” He gently puts a hand on Crowley's shoulder. Crowley keens and trembles. Zira tries to be a comfort. “Breathe... breathe... I'm so sorry.” There's a tear in his voice now. “I know... I know... please breathe...”

Zira tries, he keeps talking.... only stopping his ministrations to plead with the men standing over them and the students who have stopped across the way in curiosity to crane their necks to see what's happening. “Someone please go get the nurse, get someone to help.”

Zira rubs Crowley's back and keeps encouraging him to breathe. Crowley continues to hold his knee and whimper. He gets enough of his wits about him to shift so his face isn't down on the pavement. He leans back into Zira with a cry of pain and a sob.

His head presses into Zira's lap, Zira cards his fingers through now sweat dampened auburn hair and places a firm hand to Crowley's chest.

The dark glasses are bent and scuffed. Zira can see his eyes are squeezed tight, stray tears keep falling.

Someone must have gone for help because Zira soon sees the nurse and some boys with a stretcher come around the kitchen. Nurse Uriel is all business as she instructs the boys to help them move Crowley off Zira and onto the stretcher. Zira starts to protest, afraid they'll hurt Crowley further. Uriel assures him that is not their intention.

Crowley does cry out when they lift him and his breathing comes in rapid bursts.

Zira's heart breaks and he feels the corner of his own eyes prick with tears.

He clambers up and insists on following the nurse and the stretcher back to the infirmary, leaving Ligur and Gabriel, they don't say anything to him, they don't try to stop him. They stand where they are with dark looks on their faces.

Nurse Uriel asks Zira questions as they go 'what were they doing?' 'How did Crowley happen to fall?' 'who else was there?' Zira tries to answer the best he can but everything seems so unreal at the moment, it's like he hasn't taken it all in. He's having a hard time focusing on what's happen around him, on anything other than Crowley.

When they get into the infirmary the nurse instructs Zira to sit by their desk while they accompany the stretcher through the room to one of the far beds and pulls the privacy curtain around.

The events play over and over in Zira's head as he sits and wrings his hands.

There are a few pained noises that come from behind the curtain, they make Zira grimace. Then it gets unnervingly quiet and Zira can't help but get anxious.

He's sitting alone, worried, when there's a tap on his shoulder that makes him jump.

He turns in his seat and sees Adam and his friends.

Zira is quick to put on a smile in front of the students. “Oh children... what are you... hum... doing here?”

“We heard Professor Crowley got hurt. Is it true?” Adam informs him. Zira is sure it's all over campus by now, he breathes out a sigh.

Just then there's another painful cry from behind the curtain, Zira and the children jump. The children's eyes get big.

“Is he dying?” Pepper asks. Zira can understand why'd she'd ask.

“No... no, I should think not. He got hurt is all, he's with the nurse now, they'll... we'll, they'll fix him right up. don't worry.” He says the last part softer than the rest. Zira half believes the words but can't accept them whole heartedly, not yet.

“It'll be alright Professor. When I cut my finger Nurse Uriel had a plaster for me right away, they're very good at their job.”

“Thank you Adam.” Zira smiles, it was kind of him to try and be a comfort. “Why don't you children run along now, no need to hang around here.”

“Yes Professor.” the children agree, particularly Brian and Wensleydale who look particularly nervous to be in the infirmary.

“Tell Professor Crowley we asked after him.” Brian speaks up very politely.

“I will, I am sure he will appreciate the thought.”

The children nod solemnly and put on encouraging smiles. They go and Zira is left on his own again, left to his thoughts.

He comes back to the present when Nurse Uriel and her young assistants finally emerge from around the curtain on the other side of the room.

“Trevor go to the kitchen and get an ice bag filled. William put the kettle on.” The boys move to do as they're told.

“Are you making tea?” Zira asks absently, the words falling from his mouth before he can stop to think of the place and situation he's in.

The nurse turns to him, a biting remark looks like it's about to be shot his way. Then Nurse Uriel's expression surprisingly softens when they look at him. He's even more surprised by their words. “I suppose we can. Trevor bring some bread and jam back from the kitchen with the ice, will you. William fill the hot water bottle and then put the kettle on for tea.”

They look back to Zira. “Do you want an aspirin?”

“Yes,” Zira breathes out. “I'd be most grateful.” His head hasn't stopped it's dull throbbing now since he first encountered Gabriel on Crowley's doorstep.

Uriel gets the pill and some water and hands them off. Zira accepts them with thanks but is asking about Crowley before he can even swallow the medicine.

“He's going to be fine.” They say with some confidence.

Zira can't help but react skeptically, as much pain as Crowley was in. “Are you certain?”

Uriel sits down in the desk chair next to Zira. “He's banged up, gonna have a nice big bruise on that knee. Initial exams seem to indicate nothing is broken or out of place but we'll have to wait for the swelling to go down before I'm complete certain.”

Zira nods in understanding.

“Poor sod went down on his bad knee... well his worse knee. Actually, I suppose that's probably more of a blessing. Stupid man.”

“Excuse me?” Zira is shocked by the flippant and quite harsh words he's hearing, he shouldn't be surprised though, they'd always been crass when it came to Crowley, at least from what Zira had heard in the past.

“I mean, he's been stupid, him and I talked when he got here and I told him, take those ridiculous glasses off every once in a while and you'll build up your tolerance, but he's stubborn. I did not tell him to go around without his leg braces, that was just foolish of him.”

Zira blinks. “You know about the leg braces?”

“He's under my care like everyone else on this campus. Plus, the Dean had it as part of the requirements of his employment, he and I had to have a talk about his needs. I know all about Crowley and what a STUBBORN ASS he can be.” They says it loud enough that he can certainly hear if he's awake.

Zira isn't sure how to react to this new development, so he focuses on Crowley. “Did you give him something for the pain?” He asks sympathetically. He cringes with the memories of Crowley sobbing because of the pain.

“Another thing he's stubborn about, wouldn't take anything more than an aspirin himself.”

Zira shakes his head. He doesn't want Crowley to be in pain.

Uriel purses their lips and then speaks frankly. “He's familiar with pain, for now I'll let him manage it himself, how he wants. For now.”

Zira sits back considering that, when one of the assistants... William returns.

“Here Nurse.” he holds the hot water bottle out.

Nurse Uriel takes it but turns to Zira. “Why don't you take this to him.”

“Me? I couldn't... I'm not a medical person.” Zira isn't sure he won't mess something up terribly.

“It's not medical, he asked for it, says it will help him sleep. You can take it.”

Zira nods and takes it from them a bit reluctantly, before standing and nodding. “Thank you.”

* * *

Crowley's bed is on the fair side of the room. It's curtained off still. Zira's mind is imagining all kinda of sights that could be waiting for him on the other side of the curtain.

Some are even gruesome. He knows his imagination is running wild. He shakes his head to try and clear those worrisome thoughts.

The water bottle has a pleasant heat to it, it's balancing out the coldness in the pit of his stomach. He feels like he's walking with both hesitation and haste as he nears the curtain.

He takes a deep breathe before crossing it.

He looks up and smiles. It's the first thing Zira notices, before the pillows and blankets and the bandage, he turns his head and smiles when Zira comes into view.

“Oh Crowley.” Zira breathes out.

“Angel.” The smile is tired and there's pain behind it, but it's there and he's there and he's smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I filled a whole notebook with just this story! I don't know that I've ever done that before. I'm bad about writing on scraps of paper and starting a story in a notebook, skipping a few pages and writing a different story and then going back to the other. But this time the whole book is just this... It was very satisfying!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More in the infirmary

[Art](https://mj-irl.tumblr.com/post/187769343872/slides-of-stars-chapter-15)

Zira stands at the foot of Crowley's bed. There’s something he has to say, he just needs to get it out. He needs Crowley to know. “I'm so sorry for what happened. If... If I could have stopped it or them or any of it I would have.”

Crowley shakes his head. “Didn't mean to scare you Angel. All this is my fault. I just wish I knew what all this was about, Gabriel, the rumors...Michael. As usual I've made a mess of everything.” He sounds frustrated and hoarse. 

“This wasn't your fault.” Zira insists in disbelief. They’d been over this Crowley shouldn’t blame himself. 

“You don't know that...” there’s a bitterness in his voice, old pain. 

“I haven't known you long, but I know you.” Zira says it with a tone that says he's not to be argued with and Crowley doesn't try. Crowley turns his head away with a grimace.

It's quiet for a second and then Zira realizes he's still clutching the hot water bottle in his arms.

“Oh! Here this is for you.” Zira moves around to the side of the bed and hold the warm bottle out to Crowley who takes it.

Zira feels colder for it's absence.

“Thank you.” Crowley hugs it to his chest. The warmth seems to relax him further into the pillows he's propped up on.

He looks pale against the white sheets. There are dark smudges under his eyes that are just visible past his glasses. The glasses he's still wearing, even though they’re a bit bent now. They’re probably annoying Nurse Uriel all the more. 

He's been changed into loose pajamas, his left leg is propped up on pillows outside of the blanket the rest of him is wrapped in. His pant leg is role up and Zira can see the bruising visible at the bottom of the bandage around his knee.

Zira realizes he's staring when Crowley's voice breaks through his thoughts and he finally blinks. “...could you, hum, bring my crutches here for me?”

“Of course, Dear Boy, is there anything else I can get for you?”

Crowley shakes his head.

“I'll just go and do that then.” Zira nods and turns to go.

Crowley calls him back. “Zira...”

Zira stops and looks back at Crowley assuming he's thought of something else he needs or wants.

“Not now... you don't have to go this second.... maybe you could sit with me?” He shifts some, pulling on his blanket. “Just for a little while.” He seems timid and almost unsure about asking.

“Oh... oh yes,” Zira understands. “I can do that.” He looks around, finds a chair, and brings it to the bedside.

He sits down, he wants to be a comfort but he isn't sure what to say. He says the first thing that pops into his mind, a question that's been bouncing around his head since he got to the infirmary. 

“Why did you come out without your leg braces on?” Zira asks quietly. Crowley didn't have to open the door this morning, he certainly didn't have to do it without getting his braces on. 

“No no... I don't want to talk about that...” Crowley turns his head away from Zira, and Zira is afraid he's upset him. Zira is resigned to sitting there in silence then Crowley turns back. “Talk about... tell me something interesting about, I don't know, sonnets.” 

Zira can’t say no to a request like that. 

“Ah well, right, sonnets... did you know, the sonnet as a form was originally Italian but the English adopted it. Both share the fourteen line love poem format but they vary in rhyme scheme...” Zira talks and Crowely listens, his breathing evens out, even though Crowley has his glasses on Zira still gets the sense that he's close to sleep. Zira lowers his voice a fraction as it becomes apparent Crowley is truly sleeping.

He speaks lowly about Shakespeare and his dark lady and the sun and the moon. He watches Crowley’s face relax and finally look peaceful. 

Zira pauses with a content sigh and he hears the unmistakable rattle of a tea tray. 'oh thank goodness' he thinks, his stomach has been rumbling for an hour now.

Nurse Uriel directs Trevor to put the tray on the bedside table.

“Help yourself Professor Phell.” Nurse Uriel instructs.

“Thank you.”

Zira gets up to fix his cup, he’s focused on the food and doesn’t realize what the Nurse is doing. He certainly would have protested Crowley being woken, when he only just fell asleep. By the time he realizes it the nurse is shaking Crowley's shoulder. “Crowley.” They say to rouse him. 

He grumbles at being woken. 

“I'm going to place the ice bag on your knee. Alright?”

He nods sleepily in respounce.

“Let me know if it's too cold.” They place the ice with care. Crowley hisses and grips the bedsheets but then huffs out a sound that sounds a lot like relief to Zira. 

“There now, that will feel better soon. Will you have some tea and food?” Uriel asks when he settles. 

“I'm not really hungry.” His voice is still hoarse and now breathy with sleep.

“You've not had a thing all day.” Zira pipes up from the table next to the bed.

Crowley turns in his direction and looks at him, mouth slightly agape.

It's like he'd forgot Zira was there... or rather he didn't expect him to still be there.

Zira smiles softly, and tries to be encouraging. “the tea is hot and the jam is quite tasty.”

Crowley closes his mouth and purses his lips in thought.

“Have a little something will you.” Zira holds a piece of bread with jam on a napkin out to him.

Crowley takes it but with a bit of hesitation. 

“Just eat what you can.” Uriel compromises. “I'm sure I'll feed you again at some point during your stay with me.”

The corner of Crowley's mouth quirks up. “You will?” He asks in a dramatic tone.

“Well if you're not too much of a brat.” Uriel rolls their eyes and takes the hot water bottle from him. 

“You're right Zira I better eat now there's a good chance I'm not get anything else while I'm here.”

Uriel makes a face at him. “I'll be back in about twenty minutes to take the ice.”

“And bring the hot water bottle back?” He asks, eyebrows raised in a hopeful expression. 

“Sure.” They agree.

Crowley pushes himself up into a more seated position. Hissing as his left leg shifts. He repositions the ice and falls back into the pillows behind him.

“Here you are.” Zira holds out a cup of tea for him.

He nods in thanks. 

Zira takes his owns and has a seat again.

Zira continues to talk about poetry as he eats. Crowley eats a little and drinks some but he puts both aside in favor of laying back down rather quickly. Zira doesn't say anything, he understands that pain can make one loose one’s appetite.

When he's finished with his tea Zira puts his cup and Crowley's back on the tea tray.

As he does he notices Crowley’s thumb is running over the scuffs and damaged parts of his glasses. 

“Oh, your glasses.” Zira laments. 

“it's alright,” Crowley shrugs. “I've got another pair, a spare.”

“Where are they, I'll bring them to you.” There was no sense in him sitting here in bent glasses. 

“Hum... top desk drawer, I think.” He sighs. 

“Alright, I'll look...” Zira assures him. Crowley looks miserable. “Don't worry, dear boy, I'll find them.”

“I... I wouldn't ask. It's only...” Crowley lets the sentence go without finishing it.

Zira can imagine a few ways the statement might have ended 'it's only that I can't do it myself right now.' 'it's only I need them.' 'it's only I don't have anyone else.'

Zira sucks in a breath, he certainly knows what it feels like to have to rely on yourself for everything. He'll do whatever he can so Crowley doesn't have to feel that way right now.

“You don't worry, it's no bother. You just focus on getting some rest and feeling better.”

He snorts, finding amusement in the statement.

“I'm serious,” Zira insists. “Your only job right now is feeling better.”

“It might be my only job shortly, if a few people get their way.”

”do not waste your energy on them and that whole mess. That mess will be sorted. You’ll get through all of this, Heaven knows.”

Zira’s sure Crowley just rolled his eyes at that. 

“Oh Lord heal this leg.” Crowley sings in a priestly manner.

“Be sarcastic all you want, just try to relax and convalesce too.” 

“What’s this about sarcasm?” The Nurse comes around the curtain. “Is someone being bratty?”

“Only on days that end in 'y'” Crowley says dryly. 

“Doesn't that sound about right.” Nurse Uriel gets snarky right back with a shake of their head.

They hand Crowley the hot water bottle back and take the ice bag off his leg.

He hugs the hot water bottle to his chest as the nurse shifts his leg, removing the bandage to get a better look.

Zira can see too, the thin, knobby knee is positively purple. Zira winces sympathetically.

Crowley hisses as the nurse touches some key areas on his knee cap and around.

“The swelling is down a bit, things still look to be unbroken.” Crowley grimaces at their words. “Well smile, it could be worse.”

Crowley grumbles and pushes further back into his pillows as the nurse rewraps the knee. “I'll bring more ice in a bit just rest for now.” They take the tea tray with them as they go.

Crowley doesn't argue, he's quiet as Zira takes his seat again.

“I'll go and get your things in a little while.” Zira lets him know. “I'll wait till you're asleep, if you like.”

Crowley hums in response. Zira thinks he's well on his way to falling asleep again when Zira hears a soft and breathy, quite sincere sounding “Thank you, Angel.”

A bit later Crowley is softly snoring and Zira decides it's time for him to get a few things done. He gets up quietly and heads out.

The nurse is at their desk, Zira stops to inform them of his plan. “I'm going to go and get some of his things, I'll be back shortly.”

“Alright.” They nod and turn back to their paperwork.

Zira doesn't go just yet “How... well how long do you think he'll be here?” Zira is wondering if he should get extra pajamas and socks and things.

Nurse Uriel puts down their pen and thinks. “I'd say he's in at least for the weekend. I want to make doubly sure he's not damaged anything he'll need a surgeon for...”

“aahhhh... very prudent, of course. I'll keep that in mind when I get clothing for him.” Zira starts to head out the door when he stops abruptly. “Oh and before I forget, apples and ginger biscuits.”

“What's that?” Uriel furrows their brow.

“Crowley... what he'll eat. What I've seen him really eat and finish anyway, apples and ginger biscuits. There was also that mini quiche at the dinner last weekend, he ate that in one bite. But I don't count it because it was mini.”

Uriel narrow's their eyes at him. “Alllright, I'll keep that in mind.”

“Very good. See you in a bit.” Zira ducks out of the infirmary and lets out a breath that he feels like he's been holding all day.

* * *

He decides to go to his rooms first. He washes up and changes his clothes. He picks out a couple books from his extensive shelves and grabs his briefcase with papers he needs to grade. Then he's out the door and walking briskly to Crowley's.

“Professor Phell!” Zira hears his name being called and he turns back towards the library to see a very determined Anathema striding in his direction and Newt tagging along behind her.

“Good evening Anathema, Newt... I'm on some business now and can't stop.” Zira slows his pace and Anathema matches it.

She looks at him with a serious intensity that is only further enforced in comparison to Newt's general timidness. “Is Professor Crowley really in the infirmary?”

Zira nods. “He is I'm afraid.”

“What happened?” Her tone says she can't believe it and she demands an explanation.

Zira wants to spout off about vindictive parents and shady security and just lay the whole tale out but he bites his tongue. It wouldn't do for a professor to talk out of turn with a student. He gives the simplest of explanations instead. “It was an accident.”

“It must have been some accident...” Newt speaks up. “People who were there are saying Mr. Ligur was involved and there was shouting.”

Zira slows to a stop now. “It was a big misunderstanding.” Zira can't help his face twisting with hurt and regret.

The students must see that he's upset. Anathema's tone changes. “Professor Crowley's going to be alright, I hope.”

Zira smiles at her concern. “The nurse seems very confident that he's not seriously injured. I think he'll be better soon.”

“That's good.” Anathema concludes and Newt nods in agreement.

“Yes...” Zira agrees and then remembers what he was doing. “I've got to go, but I'll tell Professor Crowley you asked after him.”

“Tell him, We hope he feels better, soon.” Anathema requests.

“Of course, I will.”

* * *

Once he's in Crowley's rooms Zira tries to remember all the things he'd come to get. He looks around and spies the crutches just inside the doorway.

So Crowley had used them to get from the sofa to the door and then purposefully left them inside when he opened the door to find Gabriel on his doorstep.

Zira sighs heavily remembering the events of the morning.

He shakes his head and clears his thoughts. The crutches are by the door so that's taken care of, he just needs to grab them on the way out. Next he heads to the bedroom.

He sees Crowley's leg braces still on the chair by the bed. Crowley didn't ask for them, so Zira leaves them where they lay.

There's a suitcase next to the wardrobe, Zira opens it up on the bed.

“Right, I hate to snoop but it's for the best.” He says out loud to no one, before opening up Crowley's dresser drawers.

He picks out socks and undergarments, putting them neatly in the suitcase. Then he looks through shirts and trousers. He's seen them all on Crowley, he’s sure they all fit him. He doesn't worry too much about them matching, Crowley's clothing is all pretty much the same palette so they'll all go together.

Zira chooses which to take by feel. He picks the softest couple of shirts and trousers from the bunch and the most well worn and least scratchy pajamas. He gives Crowley a couple days worth of clothing or at least some choices. Then he latches the suitcase and puts it by the door with the crutches.

“What else?” Zira lists the things he was to get and then remembers. “Glasses”

He heads to the desk and straight to the top drawer. They are there just as Crowley thought they would be. A leather case containing another pair of dark glasses just like the ones that were damaged.

Zira pauses before shutting the drawer, there's not much in it, as he certainly expected, but there are a couple paintbrushes. He wonders idly if Crowley paints and then he remembers the journal.

It's still laying out on the desk. Swirls and stars. Zira kicks himself, he completely forgot to ask Adam and the others about the design. Of course he had a good reason to be distracted, still he was curious.

Curious enough in fact to reach out and turn the page. There are words on the next page... much like the other page Zira had seen when Crowley showed him the journal the first time. Things written over and over and not in the lines.

This page had a few words scrawled across and down in a shaky hand...

Falling – Fallen – Fell

“Fell.” Zira says the word out loud, feeling its familiarity and strangeness all at once.

“Crowley fell...” Zira narrows his eyes and searches his memories again. He'd done this once before and just like before he's left with a blank.

He simply can't remember the student that fell from the attic.

“was it you?” He whispers, knowing Crowley's not there to answer.

* * *

When he gets back to the infirmary Nurse Uriel isn't at their desk.

Zira starts to head with all his things back to Crowley's bed when he hears voices coming from behind the curtain.

Zira stops to listen and get a sense of what's going on before he continues. The first voice he hears is definitely the nurse, the second he realizes with a bit of a shock is Assistant Dean Etron.

“So you say, it was Gabriel, Crowley, Ligur and Professor Phell involved with this mess.”

“Yes Sir, there was some sort of altercation. You'll have to speak with them to get the details.”

“And only Professor Crowley was hurt.”

“Yes Sir, he fell when Mr. Ligur grabbed his arm.”

“Oh my, oh dear. Is anything... broken?”

“It doesn't appear so. He should mend.”

“Well thank Heaven for small favors. Theodosia is not going to be happy about this.”

“No I can't imagine she would be.”

“Well she'll have her say soon enough, she arrives Monday.”

“Very good.”

Zira can't believe his ears. He doesn't know if he should be excited or filled with trepidation.

The Dean is coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have been hella crazy, I'm sure this chapter needs some editing... please let me know if there are any glaring errors. Thank you for reading!!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Morning, a surprise and a plan (Great or Ineffable... it's a mystery)

[Art Colored](https://mj-irl.tumblr.com/post/188090922843)

Zira heads back to the infirmary bright and early Sunday morning before church.

He had sat with Crowley a bit longer last night after dropping off his things and then had finally headed back to his bed to get some sleep. The whole day had been a blur.

This morning Zira finds the nurse sitting at their desk and looking tired as Zira greets them with a smile.

“I doubt he's up or will be up anytime soon.” Uriel yawns. “it was a rough night.”

“Really?” Zira asks rather concerned, he wonders if he should have stayed.

He doesn't know that him being here would have helped any. He didn't have a particularly restful night either. Gabriel and Ligur had lurked in his dreams all night.

Uriel tries to smile, it doesn't quite reach their eyes. “I think, even though he's tough, the pain got to him last night, and well, some nightmares.”

Zira nods understanding how that could make for a long night.

“You're welcome to go and see him.”

Zira thanks Nurse Uriel and walks back through the rows of beds to Crowley's. He is indeed asleep still. Crowley's brow is creased and his hands are gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He looks stressed.

Zira moves across to the chair that's been left for him and grabs the book he placed on the bedside table the night before.

“Where were we?” He asks in a melodic voice as he takes a seat.

He flips through the pages and finds his spot. He starts reading the Count of Monty Cristo in hushed tones.

After a few pages Crowley has noticeably relaxed.

Zira check the time. “I've got to go, my boy, I'll be back after church.”

* * *

About an hour and a half and a dozen dodged questions later Zira returns to the infirmary. He passed the nurse in the hall, they said they were going to go and get more ice.

Zira walks through the room of beds thinking he's alone save Crowley. When he gets past the privacy curtain he sees that is not the case.

He stops in his tracks.

In the chair where he's been sitting is a woman.

He recognizes her even though he's not seen her in person in years. “Good morning Dean.”

“Good morning Professor Phell.” She says it without turning to see who it was who spoke. It spooks Zira just a little bit. He wonders how she could possibly know it was him, he reasons perhaps the Nurse told her he was expected to return.

“I heard you were to arrive tomorrow...” Zira speaks softly, Crowley is unmistakably still asleep. He's actually mumbling unintelligibly into his pillow and sighs deeply as Zira speaks.

“There was a good wind crossing the channel, we made miraculously good time.” She sits with impeccable posture and neatly quaffed hair. She smiles slightly. “I'm glad you're here Professor Phell.”

Zira thinks she must mean she's glad he's here because she wants to discuss the situation at hand. “I'm glad you're here Dean, the goings on have certainly been baffling...”

The Dean nods her head but continues her train of thought as if she hadn't acknowledged Zira's. “I was so pleased to see your application on my desk. I always thought you were a promising student. I hear you're well liked among the students and that the two of you make quite the pair.”

Zira blushes at the praise and the insinuation. “I...”

“I would have liked to have seen the lesson you presented together, I'm sure it was something. You'll have to tell me about it sometime, perhaps over tea.”

“Yes, of course Dean.”

She is quiet for a second. Zira stays attentive. Her expression turns serious. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

Zira works to keep up with the shift in mood and subject. “No, I'm sure...”

“I wanted them all back here so we could clear up a few things.”

“A few things, Ma'am?”

“Well, it's all going to be aired out, if I have anything to do with it. I'll not have this nonsense go on any longer.” She reaches out and puts her hand on the side of Crowley's bed. Had he not been curled up asleep she might have patted his hand reassuringly.

She stands to leave. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow Professor Phell.” She looks in his eyes and Zira feels a great deal of reassurance, then she turns and gracefully exits.

Zira sits down heavily in the seat she's vacated. He tries to process what's just transpired.

He just met with The Dean.

About ten minutes later Crowley stirs. He stretches his arms and blinks, then one arm falls dramatically across his face covering his eyes. He reaches out to the bedside table with the other arm and is left groping to find his glasses.

“Here, they're here.” Zira sees them on the table just out of Crowley's reach. He stands swiftly and moves them to Crowley's fingertips.

“Thanks” He breathes as he gets the glasses on. Then does a what Zira thinks must be a double take, he must be surprised to see Zira at his beside again. “thanks.”

He lays still for a moment and then is a sudden flurry of motion, he shoves his blanket back and pushes up on his elbows. He scoots to the edge of the bed.

Zira watches him curiously.

He lifts his right leg up and moves it over the side of the bed, then takes his left leg in hand.

Zira is swiftly up and out of his seat to help however he can. “What do you need, what can I do? Should you be getting up? Should you wait for the nurse?”

Crowley breathes deep and moves his battered leg it with a groan. His face pulls into a terrible grimace and Zira winces, he knows it has to hurt.

“I've got to go to the loo, I don't think the nurse will mind that, do you?” Crowley pants and looks around, then sighs tiredly, Zira isn't sure what's the matter.

“Could you hand me my crutches?”

Zira looks and sees they're propped on the wall on the other side of the bed. He moves around the bed, gets them quickly.

Crowley stands using the crutches for balance. He puts all his weight on his right leg and doesn't put any weight on his bruised leg as he moves.

Zira stays by the bed, he doesn't want to be a worry wort, hovering. Crowley seems to be doing well getting around. Even half asleep he's skilled with the crutches.

He hisses in pain suddenly and Zira jumps. “Alight?” he calls.

“Fine...fine, blasted door. I'm fine.”

Zira fights the urge to go and check on him.

Crowley comes back to the bed after a few minutes and Zira gets a good look at him and can see the fact that the pajamas the nurse gave him yesterday to wear are a little too baggy.

It looks like he's drowning in the shirt. Crowley is tall so it's not that they're too long, it's just that he's skinny as a rail so the pants don't seem to cinch tight enough. It would be cute if they didn't also look hazardous, the pant legs hang down over his feet and Zira can see he keeps getting his thumb hooked in the big shirt as he moves the crutches.

“I packed some of your sleep clothes... would you like to change into them, would they be more comfortable?”

Crowley comes to a stop at the foot of the bed. “I want to put my clothes on and go home.”

“Not so fast mister.” The nurse's voice comes from around the curtain. “You need to get back in bed.”

“but I'm fine...” Crowley insists.

He gets a disbelieving look from the nurse and Zira gives him a matching one.

“It's not that much worse than what it usually is, just sore.” No one lets him off the hook and he relents, admitting quietly “...aches a bit. I can rest just as well in my room, better even... probably.”

Crowley makes his argument and it does have an effect on Uriel. Zira can see it on their face but they still don't give Crowley permission to leave. “I'm sorry, I know we discussed the possibility of you getting out of here today but I’ve just talked to the Dean and she's getting a specialist to come have a look at your knee...”

“What? nooo...” Crowley whines.

“I'm afraid you're going to need to stay put until the specialist clears you.”

“But...”

Uriel shakes their head. “You're going to have to take it up with the Dean, it's out of my hands.”

Crowley sags against his crutches.

“Back in to bed with ya, I've brought some ice.” Crowley huffs but he relents and gets back on the bed. The nurse straightens his blankets. “Now, it's nearly lunch time. Do you want breakfast now and lunch later or skip right to lunch?”

Crowley adjusts his pillows so he's sitting up more “I don't know, whichever, surprise me.” He sounds less than enthusiastic.

Zira takes his crutches and places them within his reach, well, within his reach as long as he gets out on the same side of the bed.

“So mush and a cold boiled egg, got it.” The Nurse is obviously teasing, but Crowley looks scandalized.

“What, no, what?”

“So you'll eat some soup and bread then?” she offers a more palatable option which Crowley is obliged to take after the joke.

“How about copious amounts of alcohol?” He says through his teeth, wincing while moving his injured leg with the nurse's help back up onto the prop of pillows.

“If you wanted a rum ration with meals you should have joined the navy.”

“I'd fit right in, I can't walk a straight line on dry land either.” He smirks.

Zira snorts and shakes his head.

With Crowley situated back on the bed the nurse gets the ice in place and Crowley stops suddenly, his expression falls.

Zira is alert with concern, thinking something must be wrong. “Crowley?” He asks.

Crowley turns to Uriel. “Wait, did you say you talked to the Dean? Did you mean on the phone?”

“No, I ran into her in the hall. She was coming from this direction. I thought she'd been to see you.”

“What?!” He sits up with a start and a whimper escapes as he jars his leg.

The nurse makes him sit back and puts the ice back on his knee.

“She was here.” Zira informs him.

“How? When?” There's a tone of disbelief in his voice.  
  


“Before you woke up.”

“uuuuggh, She was here and she didn't say anything.”  
  


“She didn't say anything to you.” Zira says gently. “I spoke with her. I think she was rather upset you'd gotten hurt and she didn't want to wake you.”

Crowley looks bewildered, it's written on his face and in his body language. “She's probably soooo disappointed.”

“Why would you say that?” Zira asks from the bedside

The nurse seems to decide this isn't their place and excuses themself. “I'll be back with his lunch.”

Crowley doesn't seem to notice them go, he's having a moment. “Me coming back here has caused nothing but issues. For Her, for you, for apparently the students...”

“That's not true...” Zira tries to convince him but Crowley won't hear it and Zira quickly realizes he needs to try a different tactic to calm Crowley. “and anyway the Dean is here to help, she said she wanted to clear up a few things.”

“A few things? What things?” Crowley picks his head up off the back of the pillows.

“She didn't say but I certainly got the impression it was about Gabriel and all this.”

“But you don't know.”

“No, but I do know it seems like the Dean has a plan, I just don't know what it is.”

“Nkg, that's just like her... I ask question after question and she, she and her thoughts, remain a mystery.”

Zira isn't sure what he's talking about, he figures there's enough to worry about without diving into that, for now. “Maybe just try and relax. The Dean is here, I'm sure she'll get things worked out and her specialist will be in and you'll get out of here in no time.”

“uuughh I'm so tired of _specialists._”

Zira has a seat next to the bed. “Have you seen many?”

“Enough...” Crowley squirms uncomfortably, like he's antsy and needs to move. “_specialists_ that made all kinds of claims about how they could help. My mother sent me to a number of them after the accident. She wanted them to fix me. Quacks, the lot of them. They had lineaments and tonics and poultices, all a bunch of bullocks. Stuff that made me gag, stuff that burned when they put it on. Stuff that smelled of sulfur. Made my eyes water, didn't help me walk.”

“Help you walk...” Zira repeats, thinking about what that meant. He doesn't have to think long, Crowley elaborates.

“Broken ankle. Wrenched and torn ligaments, dislocation, shredded muscles, surgery. After months in bed trying to heal, the doctors told me to get up and I couldn't, I was too weak and in too much pain to stand, let alone walk. They said then I wouldn't walk again.”

Zira shakes his head. “But but you did.”

“My Stepfather got tired of my Mother sending me to all the quacks. He sent me to one who had some sense, got me some leg braces that helped and then sent me away, back to school and I had to figure it out on my own or get left behind.”

“They sent you away?” Zira asks, his voice soft.

“My mother was never pleased with me even before the accident I was a thorn in her side. After... it was worse... they just didn't want to be bothered anymore.”

“I can't believe...” Zira had lost his own parents, he would do anything to have more time with them. He just can't imagine a parent not wanting their child. Not wanting to take care of their ailing child.

“I haven't seen them in seven years. They didn't come to my graduation. They sent a card.” He turns away from Zira, turning his head to look at nothing but the privacy curtain on that side of the bed.

Zira had known some of this and gleaned over the few months he'd known Crowley that his family wasn't around and that his mother and stepfather had never paid him much attention, mostly leaving him at school, alone, whether school was in session or not.

It just boggles Zira's mind.

He really doesn't know what to say.

Crowley sighs and turns back.

“It doesn't matter... It's in the past. Right now, I'm not getting out of here until I see who ever this specialist is and that means I've got to get something ready for my classes to do while I'm not there. Uuugggh that means essays and busy work.”

Zira makes a face, he knows the pain and boredom of reading and grading essay after essay and there was no one who could truly take up Crowley's lectures for all of his classes so the students would have to be kept busy.

It was a dilemma.

Zira considers it.

“What if... what if you had the students do a group project where each of the groups, say three or four students, put together a presentation on one piece of art or one subject that you were going to cover for the class. So they would do the research and the reading and then present the information to the class. Then maybe they can write an essay about what they learned. You'd have something to grade and it wouldn't all be mindless busy work, plus the classes wouldn't fall too far off schedule.”

Crowley perks up. “I... that could work.”

Zira smiles. “What do you need? Your satchel, text books?”

“And my class rosters, from my desk in the classroom.”

“I'll grab your things.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira runs errands, goes on an adventure with the them, his plans get derailed, and revelations happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for over 200 kudos!

[GO art for sale](https://www.redbubble.com/people/mjfitz?asc=u)

Zira leaves the infirmary and goes first to get his own lunch. He eats and reads and it's general quiet which he appreciates.

After, he goes and gets his things so he can prepare for class tomorrow too. Then he goes to the academic to get Crowley's things.

The building is dark.

It's possible that there is a professor or two in a classroom somewhere, but being a Sunday afternoon, it's also possible that the whole building is empty and he's the only one here.

It's an interesting feeling.

Zira moves through the halls, enjoying the different feel to the building in it's off hours. the aura is calm and learned and inviting.

It is a comfort.

After all the things going on, Zira breathes a sigh of relief into the quiet and just soaks in the calm for a moment.

He easily gets into Crowley's classroom and without much fuss finds his notes for class and his roster book.

He gathers the things and closes the desk drawer.

Before he's taken a step towards the door there is a loud noise.

A bang from the hallway.

Zira's blood runs cold.

Memories of falling buckets, soaked books and Hastur's uncaring eyes send a jolt through him.

He can't help but be unnerved by the noise. Frozen in place.

Then it's followed by giggles.

Zira can breath again. He can move. He breathes out and collects himself.

“Who's in here?” Zira calls into the hall.

He hears shocked gasps. He probably startled them. Good.

“Pro... Professor Phell?” Zira recognizes the voice instantly and is not surprised. “Adam, what are you up to?”

Sure enough Adam Young comes around the corner and is promptly followed by Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale.

“We were just playing.” Adam says apologetically.

“In the school building on a Sunday, why aren't you outside running around?”

Wensleydale steps forward to explain. “Well you see we heard that in some old buildings there were places, secret panels and compartments where people would hide catholic priests when the church was outlawed here.”

Brian continues. “Yeah and we figured this is an old building so maybe there's a secret panel or something to find.”

  
It is an old building. Zira isn't sure if it's as old as all that but he supposes it's possible. Still that isn't the best reason to be in the building. “And what was that bang?”

“We found something!” Pepper exclaims.

“You did? Are you certain?”

Pepper and the boys urge Zira to follow them.

He does, going with them around the corner and down the back hall. He's curious as to what they've found and what they potentially broke.

He finds things in the back hallway just a bit shifted. They've moved a very large old chair from it's place along the wall and to his surprise they have indeed uncovered a latch.

He blinks... there was undeniably a secret door.

“What do you think it could be Professor?” Brian asks, looking up at him.

“I'm not sure.” Honestly what kind of door does one put a chair in front of, Zira isn't sure.

“We opened it but we can't get the chair moved enough to see in.” Adam shows him the door opens out only a few inches then it hits the back of the chair.

Zira hesitates for a second but then figures 'what's the harm?'

“You children get on that side.” He directs the, as he sets the bags and books he's carrying aside and grabs hold of the other side of the chair. “Now on three...” He counts down and they all lift.

They get the chair moved a good three feet and that's all they need.

The children scramble back to the door.

Adam reaches out and unlatches it slowly.

It's dark inside and a musty smell wafts out. The children and Zira wrinkle their noses.

The door opens enough for some light from a nearby window to reach inside.

“Stairs!” Brain says shocked.

Pepper grabs Adam's arm. “Oh my god we found a secret staircase!”

“Where do you think it goes?” Wensleydale peers in and tries to get a look up to where it goes.

Adam speculates. “Could be anywhere, a secret room, a tower where they locked away bad children.”

“It looks to me...” Zira speaks up before imaginations run too far afield. “Like an old servant's staircase that's just too steep and rickety to be used so they closed it over.”

“Well that's no fun.” Pepper huffs.

Adam continues to make up stories, perhaps Zira should encourage him to write some fiction. “Maybe one of the staff fell down the stairs and they had to close the staircase off because it's haunted.”

“Yeah like they kept scaring everyone to death.” Brian adds and all the children agree.

Zira smiles thinly as he's reminded again of what he wanted to ask these particular students about. “I've been meaning to ask you all...” He starts and they all look at him with uncertainty. “and don't worry I'm not going to get you in trouble, I really am genuinely curious so please do answer honestly... where did you see that pattern of circles and stars that Brian drew?”

The children look to one another and seem to come to a decision without saying a word.

Brian is the one who speaks up. “It's painted on the walls in the dormitory attic.”

Zira sucks in a breath “In the attic you say... will you show me?”

“We'll take you professor, if you want.” Adam suggests.

Zira nods eagerly. “Let's get this chair back and then you can show me.”

* * *

Zira hasn't been in the Dormitory at all since he's been back on campus.

It's much the same as when he was living here as a student. The walls are newly painted and the rugs on the floor are a different color but it still has the same feel.

They pass the matron's desk and hurry down the hall and up three flights of stairs. Then they step into the hall.

Zira had stayed in a room down the hall to the left. Now he follows the children to the right and around the corner. At the far end of the hall he can see door.

Adam opens the door and reveals the closed off space hides three more doors.

Zira doesn't remember ever being here before. The space they step into seems rather foreboding.

All of the doors are higher than the floor and have to be stepped up into. Adam moves ahead and opens the door straight in front of them.

It's a narrower door than the rest. It opens up to an even ricketier set of stairs than they'd seen in the Academic building. The banister and rails look like they were old twenty years ago.

They lead unmistakably to the attic.

Zira follows the children up the steep stairs, reminding them to be careful as they go.

When they reach the top Zira finds what he'd expect to see. The attic has boxes, old trunks, and packed away furniture... much of it probably left by students past.

“Over here.” The children wave him to the far wall around a stack of crates.

He moves around the crates and sees stars. Literal stars painted in yellows and oranges.

They sit among swirls of blue and purple that stretch up the wall and start to make their way up onto the ceiling.

The circling, spiral, star design plays across the wall in a way that even though it is faded and flaking Zira can still feel the joy and the passion that the artist put in. “Oh my.” He can't help but smile.

“Yeah, neat isn't it.” Adam stands back looking at the mural.

“Someone certainly put a lot of work in...” Zira loves getting glimpses at other people's hearts, it's one of the reasons he collects the books he does, and someone's painted their heart all over this wall.

“There's some initials but we can't quite make them out.” Wensleydale explains.

“I wonder if it was done by a student.” Brian says.

Adam lets his imagination run wild again. “Probably a student who they locked up here in the attic.”

Zira shakes his head, not unkindly. “I don't think so, I think it was probably someone just trying to express themselves.”

“I wonder if they're a famous artist now?” Pepper asks

“Who ever painted this has talent.” Zira agrees. “Where are the initials?”

“Over here.” Adam and Brian shift a box and Zira can see the initials are indeed hard to make out. “Looks like 'J' and maybe 'R' here... but the first letter is terribly faded.” Zira laments, he was hoping there would be something... more.

The children all make suggestions. “Could be a 'D'” “or an 'A'” “Maybe an 'O'”

“Interesting.” Zira looks and can see it the first letter was a loopy letter so all of their guesses are valid.

“There's no date, so we don't know when it was done.” Adam points out.

Zira knows Crowley drew these after his accident.

That of course didn't mean he painted the wall here, but it was likely he'd seen the painting here just like the children had.

Zira is pleased and has seen all he needs to. “Thank you for showing me this. Lets get back down now. Careful as you go, these stairs seem treacherous, this really is no place to play children.”

* * *

Zira's got his arms full with his briefcase and papers and Crowley's satchel and books. Still as he juggles it all he's buzzing with excitement.

He keeps thinking about what he's seen.

It's definitely connected.

He knows it.

He's just not sure how.

Still it could be helpful. Crowley had said he didn't understand the drawings and writings in the journal and finding this painting, Zira was certain could help.

It was all well, exciting.

When Zira gets to the infirmary Nurse Uriel isn't at their desk. He can see the young attendants are next door doing chores, folding sheets and the like.

Zira's intends to hurry to Crowley's bedside with with arm load of books and papers and news. He starts in that directs but stops short.

There's a voice.. a voice he didn't expect to hear here, certainly not coming from behind the curtain around Crowley's bed.

A voice that frankly shouldn't be there.

One that doesn't sound happy.

Zira drops the books and things on the nearest bed and approaches the curtain cautiously.

Michael raises their voice in frustration.

“Why won't you just leave? What is it you want, money?”

Zira can't make out Crowley's reply but Michael definitely doesn't like it. “God you always were a weird little freak even before we...”

“Before what?” Zira hears Crowley's respounse clearly this time.

Michael doesn't answer and Zira takes the pause as his cue. “Crowley, is everything alright?” Zira throws the curtain aside and is met with a glaring Michael.

They give Crowley, in his bed, one more withering glance before demanding Zira move out of their way and storming off.

Crowley falls back against his pillows from the tense propped up on guard position he'd been in. Zira rushes to his side.

“Are you alright, what was that all about?”

Crowley covers his face with his hands and lets out a shaky breath. When he lowers his hands he looks hurt and confused. “I don't know. Same as with all this... Lord, why don't I know?" He looks ready to curse or cry or tear at the sheets.

Zira's heart hurts for him.

“That shouldn't have happened. They shouldn't have been here. I'm sorry.” Zira wrings his hands because he's not comfortable reaching out to Crowley like he wants to.

“...not your fault.” Crowley says, there's a bitter edge to his tone.

“I understand that...” Even though Zira also knows if he's been here it might have been prevented. “Still I'm sorry it happened, that's what I meant.”

“You're too nice Angel...” Crowley turns his head away and then rolls slightly so his back is to Zira.

“I... I've brought your things and mine and I'm going to stay and do some work if that's alright with you.”

Crowley hums in a noncommittal way, not moving to face Zira.

“I'm going to take that as a yes.”

Zira watches Crowley, he's twisted on the bed with his arms hugged around him.

Blasted Michael, what did they think they were doing.

Zira shakes his head, he doesn't know what to do.

He pulls the curtain back into place and goes to get the things he left.

Of course now the nurse comes back. Their arms are full of folded towels.

Zira picks up his things and joins them at the linen cupboard.

“Michael was just here.” He says in a harsh whisper.

“What?” Uriel asks as if they don't realize Zira is trying to be discrete. He nods his head towards Crowley's bed, both to say it has to do with him and please be quiet. He doesn't know if they get the whole message.

“Michael was just here and was practically yelling at him when I got back.”

“You are kidding me.” Uriel looks confused, then annoyed, than righteously angry. “I know the parents are complaining about him, but what right do they think they have to come into my infirmary and yelling at one of my patients. Bleeding donors think they run the place.”

Zira is surprised and pleased that someone else is as unhappy about this as he is.

“Is Crowley alright?”

“I think... this has all been really hard on him, this week, the students and the parents and he doesn't understand why it's happening. Michael has been mad about him being here since day one.”

“Why's that?” Uriel seems genuinely curious.

“Not a clue... Crowley seems just as confused.”

Uriel shakes their head. “I'll put the kettle on.”

“That's a good idea.” It's what he would do. 

* * *

Uriel makes tea which they and Zira have while chatting quietly about nothing. They also fill the hot water bottle for Crowley.

He takes it like a lifeline and folds himself around it.

Zira hates to see him so closed off. So hurt.

After awhile in what Zira would describe as contemplative silence Crowley finally sits up, brushes back his hair, drinks some lukewarm tea and asks Zira for his things so he can set about doing some of his work for class.

Zira sits with him through it all and reads some of his class's papers and takes notes on texts he plans to teach in the future.

Crowley doesn't say much and Zira doesn't push, he lets it be quiet. The mood is serious but no longer tense like it was.

When it gets close to dinner time, the nurse informs them they'll get dinner for everyone and leaves.

Crowley keeps at his planning. He's making lots of notes for whoever is covering his classes. He doesn't know when he'll be allowed back so he seems to be planning as far out as he can.

Zira hears someone come in and assumes it must be Uriel returning. “Let me help you.” He calls out and puts his book down so as not to loose his page.

When he turns it's not Uriel but the Dean at the foot of Crowley's bed.

“I assure you Professor Phell, I'm not in need of help at the moment but thank you for the offer.” She smiles warmly.

“Oh Dean, excuse me... I, I thought...” Zira sputters.

“That's quite alright.” She assures him and Zira jumps into action. Clearing off and around his chair and offering it to her.

Only after he's done and she's taken a seat does he realize that Crowley is just watching her.

Zira wishes he could see Crowley's eyes, there is a complicated expression on his face that Zira can't quite figure out. Hurt, comfort, excitement, trepidation...

“Hello Professor Crowley, how are you feeling?” She asks after she's smoothed out her skirt and crossed her legs at the ankle.

“Dean...” He greets tersely with a bit of attitude. “pretty rubbish actually.”

Zira stands off to the side and covers his mouth in shock at how blatantly Crowley is talking to the Dean.

The Dean doesn't seem phased.

“I am sorry to hear that and I'm sorry it's under these circumstances, but I am glad to see you. It's been a long time.”

Crowley nods and looks down at his hands like they're the most interesting things in the room. “... I didn't know I would bring this kind of trouble with me, coming back here. I wouldn't have taken you up on your offer if I did.”

“You didn't cause this, I don't blame you. Michael and Gabriel and well, Mr. Ligur, they've caused the trouble from what I've heard.” She sounds very understanding.

Crowley sniffs and brushes the back of his hand under his nose. Zira can see there's a crack in the tough exterior Crowley seems to have wanted to present to her. “It's been...nkg... and I don't know why... and it's like everything has been building... and now...”

“I know my dear, I've been filled in on many things, most recently from Nurse Uriel.”

Zira realizes, Uriel must have told the Dean that Michael had been here this afternoon.

“Well can you tell me why... why has this all happened? What did I do... to Michael, to Gabriel?” there is a desperation in the questions.

The Dean looks confused now too. “Do you remember anything about what happened to you here?”

“No I don't remember... I want to remember.” Crowley's brow creases. “It's only fragments, I really don't... nothing's clear. I feel like I'm missing something. Apparently I did something and I'm paying for it now.”

The Dean's eyes get wide and sad. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you didn't remember. I didn't mean to put you in harms way.”

“What are you not saying, what do you know?”

“I don't know anything... nothing for certain. I have my speculations. I had hoped you remembered and that that would be enough to put them in their places after all these years. But it doesn't matter, they've shown their cards and they're going to confess. I'm going to see to that.”

Zira looks from one to the other, he's trying to follow along, he suspects what they're talking about but it's all rather cryptic.

Crowley breathes out his nose very deliberately and pulls the glasses off his face to rub at his eyes.

“It has weighed on me all these years, what happened to you.” There's emotion in her voice now.

“It was an accident.” Crowley insists, he looks at her, his uncovered eyes narrowed and piercing.

Zira sucks in a breath, they were talking about Crowley's accident.

“An...” The dean's voice takes on a terribly sympathetic tone and Zira sees Crowley wince.

“don't...” He shakes his head.

“Angie...” She starts again. Zira thinks the tone she uses sounds quite motherly.

Zira blinks.

Angie...

An J...

Something clicks in Zira's brain.

Memories of a small skinny student with long red hair come flooding in. The initials A.J. jump to mind. They had called them Angie.

“Angie...” He whispers, he remembers and looks at Crowley with new eyes.

Crowley ducks his head, the tops of his ears go red. “I go by Crowley now.”

“Crowley.” Zira nods, still he's amazed at who he's seeing in front of him. He remember's the student, fiery like their long hair, mischievous but kind, sort of lonely but sweet.

“Crowley...” Zira's voice catches in his throat but he pushes on. He doesn't want to ask, he doesn't want to bring it up, but he needs to know. “were you the student that fell from the attic?”

Crowley swallows and the Dean looks sadly at him.

“Honestly, Angel...” He wraps his arms protectively around himself. “I'm starting to think I was pushed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *just a note to be clear: Crowley was not injured because of his gender


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *In case anyone is concerned, I want to be clear, Crowley was not injured because of his gender.
> 
> In this Chapter Zira is called to the Assistant Dean's office and then suddenly every one is there and Drama unfolds and some things are learned.

[Photomanip of Crowley in Pajamas ](https://kerriss.tumblr.com/post/188328025187/crowley-in-drowning-in-pajamas-photomanip-for)

Monday morning Zira gets up, gets dressed, gets food and gets to class but as he's standing in front of his students he's not sure how it all happened.

He went through the motions and kind of wound up where he needed to be.

Now if only he could focus on the task in front of him. His brain is going like locomotive and it's racing towards one thought.

What is going to happen? With Crowley, the Dean and everything.

Something is going to happen. He can feel it, There is a feeling in the air and a charge though the rustling fall leaves, enough that he starts feeling poetic about it all.

“Professor?” Zira is brought out of his thoughts by a confused voice calling him. His face reddens, when he realizes he was standing up in front of the class staring into space.

“I'm sorry, I was off somewhere else for a moment there...” He clears his throat and tries to find his place in the book he's about to present.

“It's alright Professor, we understand.” Wensleydale kindly reassures him.

“How is Professor Crowley?” Adam asks. Whispers, questions along with well wishes rumble through the room.

He is struck by how intuitive some of his students are, they really are smart caring children. When they aren't being sweep up in the drama of rumors.

“He's...” Zira is thinking about how to answer in a vague but positive way when there's a knock on his door that interrupts everything.

He looks to see one of the office staff opening the door to peak in, one of the women who's helped him in the past. “Professor Phell, your presence is requested by the Assistant Dean, in his office.”

Zira's heart starts to pound. Lord he knew something was going to happen today, he didn't know that it would happen this fast or that he'd be called away. “Oh... oh my, but the class...”

She steps fully into the classroom now and every student's eyes are on her. “I've been instructed to watch them until you return.”

“Oh, oh but I haven't prepared... hum, vocabulary...that's what we'll do...” Zira quickly turns to the chalkboard and writes out ten large, in size and length, words in a very neat cursive script.

“Define them and use them in a sentence, read the text... pages 10 -15 and write a summary and behave please behave.” He implores the children, though this class will probably be fine. Probably.

“Yes Professor.” They answer dutifully.

Zira grabs his coat and give the class one more look before exiting.

If his heart was pounding before it is now doing a jig in his chest as he makes his way down the hall and nearly looses his footing on the stairs. He catches himself and continues his a hand over his heart. Trying to compose himself.

Oh, he doesn't like this, the uncertainty. The possibility of reprimand.

He's spent so much of his life trying to stay out of trouble and here he is in the middle of it.

He sends up a silent prayer as he opens the door to the admin building that this will all turn out fine, oh please let it be fine.

The assistant at the front desk looks frazzled. But Zira suspects that might have to do with the other assistant covering his class... he wonders who is covering Crowley's class.

“They're waiting for you in Assistant Dean Etron's office, Professor Phell.”

Zira nods solemnly and moves through the gate and past the desk.

The Assistant Dean calls from his office. “Come in Professor Phell.”

Zira takes a deep breath and steps into the Assistant Dean's doorway and stops, he freezes as he tries to gage the situation.

In the office already are Ligur and Gabriel looking as unpleasant as the last time he saw them.

“Professor, have a seat I'd like to hear your account of what happened on Saturday morning.”

“Oh yes lets hear...” Gabriel says snidely.

“Now we've heard from you Gabriel, we must hear from Professor Phell.” The Assistant Dean explains.

Zira moves into the office and hesitantly takes the empty chair across from the Assistant Dean's desk. While the other two men stand off to the side.

He would not call anything about this comfortable.

It's like they've conspired to make it as uncomfortable as possible.

He sits up straight and clasps his hands in his lap. “Well, you see...” he clears his throat and tries to focus solely on the Assistant Dean and not the hostile audience. “Professor Crowley and I were at his rooms the night before, hum... Friday night. We were talking Shakespeare until late. So I decided to stay on his, hum, sofa rather than go home.” it wasn't too far from the truth.

“Had too much to drink, more like.” Gabriel interjects while Ligur stands menacingly silent.

“I'll not deny there was alcohol that night but we weren't doing anything against the rules, this is not a dry campus.”

Dean Etron seems nonplussed about the liquor “Go on Professor.”

“In the morning I tidied up and left but when I left Gabriel here was there on the doorstep.”

“I was there to speak with Crawly.” He says like it's a typically thing for a parent to do on a Saturday morning or any morning, show up at a teachers home.

“It's Crowley” Zira corrects, with no patiences left on the matter. “I suggested he come back during the week and speak with you Dean Etron but he wouldn't leave and wouldn't hear that Professor Crowley was unavailable. I suggested that it wasn't normally how things were done. That did not seem to phase him either, he reminded me he's a parent of students here as well as a donor to the school.” Zira sighs. “Eventually Crowley opened his door to see what was going on on his doorstep...”

Gabriel looks like he wants to interject again, he doesn't get the chance. There's a noise, a scuffle, in the Main office that draws everyone's attention.

“I am not fussing.” Zira recognizes the voice as Nurse Uriel's.

“You aaaarrre.” The reply is most definitely Crowley.

Zira is on his feet and so is the Assistant Dean. “I sent word to Professor Crowley that his presence was not necessary this morning, what's he doing here?”

“You're the one who's fussy.” Uriel accuses.

Dean Etron steps out of his office and Zira follows quickly wanting to see Crowley of course but also wanting to not to stay in the room alone with Ligur and Gabriel.

“What's going on here? Why have you left the infirmary Professor Crowley?” The Dean asks befuddled.

“I know you said I wasn't needed but I didn't want to miss out. Hey Zira!” Crowley calls when he sees him, He's definitely in an interesting mood.

Zira can see that Crowley is haphazardly dressed, with just a coat over his button up shirt, no tie, vest or jacket. But he is wearing clothes that Zira had packed for him.

“Looks like we've made it at just the right time.” A new voice calls from the door to the main office.

Zira groans as everyone turns to look.

Of all the things they didn't need complicating this morning.

Michael followed by Beelzebub and about ten more people Zira doesn't know but assumes are parents of students but could be alumni file into the main office.

The space is quickly becoming cramp as if it wasn't already uncomfortable.

Michael looks Crowley up and down. “If you think you're going to gain anyone's sympathies with those crutches you are sorely mistaken.”

“Don't talk to my patient like that.” Uriel says drawing Michael's attention but they don't hold it long.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Gabriel's voice comes form behind Zira, he's come out of the Assistant Dean's office to join the crowd. “Crutches really? Isn't that a bit over doing it?” Gabriel quips.

Zira sneers at the smug look on his face and the glower on Ligur's behind him.

“What are you on about?” Crowley, in the middle of everyone and everything looks around in disbelief. At Michael and Gabriel and the other people who apparently also have a problem with him who are nodding their heads and questioning his existence too. “I need these, I've needed them since I was fourteen years old.”

“Right, because no one here has ever seen you swaggering about here on campus before.” Ligur speaks up and Michael nods adamantly.

“Yes, in leg braces which I can't use right now because my knee is too sore and swollen, thanks to you.” Crowley tries to explain but Zira can see Ligur and Gabriel put on overly dramatic skeptical expressions.

“Leg braces.” Beelzebub says in a tone that Zira can quite interpret.

Crowley looks positively done with all of this. Zira feels similarly, sadly this is only just starting.

“People, people everyone just calm down.” The Assistant Dean raises his voice. “Mary Sarah will you please escort Michael and the others into the conference room.” He gestures towards the door on the other side of the room, opposite his office.

Amazingly Michael is satisfied with this and everyone else follows along after them.

As the move past many of the parents look Crowley up and down, some of them whisper. Crowley grimaces and sneers. Zira moves to his side. Uriel takes their chance to exit the drama. “Bring him back in one piece will you?” The Nurse shakes their head. “Good luck.”

Zira nods, they need all the luck they can get.

“Where's the Dean?” Crowley asks him as he droops against his crutches.

Zira shrugs. “I haven't seen her.”

Assistant Dean Etron turns to them and Gabriel and Ligur. “We are not finished gentlemen, I need to handle this, but the Dean and I will be deliberating on this situation shortly.”

He turns on his heels and enters the conference room with a call for everyone to settle.

“You're damn right it's not finished.” Gabriel states. “I've got plenty more to say.” He follows the Dean into the conference room, where voices are already starting to raise.

“You're really in it now. Should've just left when you had the chance but no you had to be some flash bastard sticking it out., well I for one can't wait to hear the verdict.” Ligur brushes past the two of them.

“bastard” Crowley says bitterly under his breath.

Mary Sarah hurries out of the conference room and then out of the office muttering about biscuits and tea.

“Will you have a seat?” Zira asks Crowley.

Crowley moves slightly readjusting himself over his crutches. He looks thoughtful. “Yeah might as well, who knows how long I'll be here waiting for... my verdict. Will you... will you stay?”

“Of course Dear Boy...” Zira says sincerely and then follows up with a cheeky grin. “My class is being covered.”

Crowley chuckles. “That's as good a reason as any.” Zira chuckles with him.

They move to sit in the chairs outside the Assistant Dean's office, the same Zira sat in on his first day.

Crowley lowers himself down stiffly. He is obviously still quite sore. He puts his crutches together in front of him and keeps hold of the hand grips, probably so he has something for his anxious hands to do as he slouches in his seat.

This is starting to feel like a trial. A trail without any defense.

Zira sighs and sits back in his seat, He looks down at his hands hoping something would come to mind, something that would help ease this situation.

When he looks up again he sees one person still out in the main office with them. He hadn't realized they'd stayed behind.

Beelzebub is looking very intensely at them. Zira shifts uncomfortably and catches Crowley's attention and he notices the small, dark haired scowling person too.

“Shouldn't you be in there complaining about me too?” Crowley asks them.

Beelzebub narrows their eyes further but gives no other reaction.

After a breath they cross the room to stand in front of Crowley, closer than Zira would like, certainly closer than Crowley would prefer.

Crowley sits up and back trying to put some distance between himself and them. They look at him with an examining gaze, like he's a bug under a microscope.

Zira looks around nervously, but there's no one else there to defuse this interaction.

Crowley shifts his left leg protectively away from the person in front of him and winds up wincing for it.

Beelzebub is undeterred by Crowley's attempt to get away, they move even slightly closer and point a finger at Crowley's crutches, so close but not quite touching. “You said you've needed these since you were fourteen.”

“Yes, I'm not lying.” Crowley says bitterly.

“Is it a general weakness or...”

“I was injured in an accident.”

“Hu uh... and your eyes?”

“They're not injured just sensitive to light, it happened after the accident... why?”

“...from what I've gathered from the others... Michael and Gabriel. You don't remember... the accident.”

“No, no I don't remember. What's it to you?”

Beelzebub looks him up and down. “Because I can tell you, you didn't cause this.” She gestures at him, just vaguely all of him. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What?” the word falls from Crowley's mouth.

“How do you know?” Zira sits forward.

Beelzebub doesn't give them anymore. They turn and walk away.

Crowley tries to get up and follow but his limbs and crutches don't cooperate in time and Beelzebub is through the door of the conference room.

Zira sits there flabbergasted, gaping like a fish.

He pulls himself together. “They know something.” He breathes out shocked.

“I'd say they do.” Crowley stands and finally gets his crutches under his arms.

“You're not going in there are you?” Zira asks concerned.

“Just a little stroll into my own personal hell, how bad could it be?”

Zira worries at his lip thinking of all the ways going into a room where people were talking angrily about you could turn out bad.

He is of course determined to look after Crowley so Zira gets up, resigned to walk into the lion's den too.

Mary Sarah picks this time to come bustling back in with the largest tray of tea Zira thinks he may have ever seen in his life.

Crowley has to irritably shift out of her way less he gets smacked in the back with the tray.

Zira tries to make himself as small as possible as she squeezes past the desk and the chairs and into the conference room to try and appease the parents.

With the door open again Zira can clearly hear Dean Etron trying to defend the school's choice in hiring a dark glasses wearing want to be jazz musician.

“They think I dress like a Jazz musician?” Crowley raises an eyebrow.

“Your hair is a bit on the long side and the glasses might add to the image.” Zira could see what they mean.

Crowley hums and shakes his head.

It is silly it's like they're reaching for anything to label Crowley as wrong for the school.

“You two, join me will you.” A pleasant voice calls.

Zira turns to see the Dean standing in the doorway of the center office.

She is impeccably dressed and made up just like he last saw her. He just can't believe she's been here the whole time and not done anything

Crowley seems just as surprised to see her.

“Come in, we need to talk.”

Zira follows Crowley into the large office and the Dean shuts the door behind them.

It's a large office and Zira counts three doors.

Crowley quickly finds a seat across from the Dean's desk. Zira notes they are particularly comfy chairs. He moves to the other empty one but doesn't sit.

The Dean doesn't sit just yet either. She is looking at Crowley who has a particularly hurt expression on his face.

She looks like she has something she wants to say, perhaps to explain. Zira cuts in, thinking he understands what's going on and why she's been in here this whole time.

“You were listening.” He can hear very clearly right now what's being said in the conference room. “The three doors go to the main office, the Assistant Dean's office and the conference room. All the transoms are open.” Zira points to the windows above the doors. “You could hear everything.”

“I can hear everything, yes. I've been listening and there's been a lot of talking this morning that makes me positive that all of this is just Michael and Gabriel trying to get others riled up so the school gets rid of Crowley.”

“Why?” He asks, its the question he's been asking for what seems like a long time now. A long time to Zira, probably feels like forever for Crowley, he thinks.

“That's the question that needs to be answered.” The Dean takes her seat and Zira sits just after her.

She looks pointedly at Crowley. “What do you remember from that night?”

“I told you, and you've apparently heard me say, I don't remember the accident.”

Her expression softens. “I didn't ask about the accident, I asked about that night.”

“Did it happen at night?” Crowley asks and it's apparent he truly has no idea. He really only knows what others have told him.

Zira sits forward in his chair and offers his recollection. “I was in bed and was awoken by people shouting, that night.”

“I don't, I don't remember.” Crowley looks to him. “I'm sorry”

“Let me help...” The Dean speaks evenly. “It was the beginning of fall classes. You were excited the students were back on campus, it had been mostly just you and me on campus through the summer...”

“And... and Mr. Shadwell.” Crowley starts as if he's asking but turns it into a statement by the end.

“Yes, yes and Mr. Shadwell, the security,” The Dean nods, “and some of the other staff coming and going too.”

“I remember him,” Zira adds. “He was a funny sort of fellow.”

Crowley nods as he reminisces. “He liked to tell me spooky legends about the school and the town, and witches. He did like to talk about witches”

Zira shakes his head adamantly. “Oh my, I would not have liked that as a student.”

“I did, big spooky fan me.” Crowley grins genuinely and Zira makes a mental note.

“So it was just you and the Dean... and Mr. Shadwell through the summer?” Zira thinks that must have been a bit lonely.

“There were some professors around, studying and making preparations, there were some students who left late and some who came back early but mostly yeah... My parents didn't call for me at all that summer.” it's a matter of fact statement for him.

“I looked after you, we played piano, took walks...” The Dean must have taken a liking to Crowley, and taken him under her wing.

“We fed the ducks.”

“Oh you always did like the ducks.” The Dean smiles fondly. “You grew nearly four inches that summer, like a weed you were growing so fast. You wrote asking for new clothes, they didn't come fast enough, so I had to get you some things, just so you'd be decently clothed.”

“It was a mostly calm summer, then classes started again. I was excited but...” Crowley's expression falters. “also overwhelmed.”

“by what?” Zira asks.

“Everyone was back and there were lots of people again and it was loud.”

“You were shy... weren't you.” Zira remembers long red hair always falling over the small student's eyes.

The Dean prompts Crowley. “You were excited but overwhelmed. Classes had started so that day you must have gone to class, done your homework, ate dinner... what else did you do?”

Crowley's lips are tight, he's thinking hard trying to remember. “I tried to play football a couple times when the student's came back but I was too uncoordinated, growth spurt didn't help that, I was all knees and elbows. I remember trying to eat with some of the other students but they said I was too weird, too quiet, and too annoying. Pestering them by asking dumb questions like 'did they see the partial solar eclipse in June?'”

“Alright so that week you tried to get along with the other students...” The Dean summarizes.

“Being in the bedroom was the hardest... after being alone so long, sharing a room with so many other people was hard. They all brought new shoes and clothes. Most of what I had was from last year and didn't fit properly. They weren't nice about it and they were loud even when I asked if they could be quiet. They stayed loud. Even when the matron said everyone has to go to sleep they talked and snored and made noise.” Crowley grimaces at the thought.

“Is that why you went to the attic?” Zira asks.

“I don't...” Crowley's brow furrows.

“When did you start going to the attic?” The Dean questions quickly.

“It was that summer,” Crowley says slowly. “I was exploring on my own, it was sort of spooky up there, I liked it.”

The Dean nods and asks a follow up question. “You went to the attic the night of your accident, what were you going to do?”

“I don't know.” He shakes his head and huffs.

“Did you bring your paint set with you?”

Zira perks up at the Dean's question, Crowley had a paint set!

“No, it was already there, I'd left it.” Crowley runs a hand through his hair as Zira stares at him. He doesn't realize what just happened but Zira caught it. 

“Did you just remember that?” He asks. “Did you remember something from that night?”

Crowley looks at Zira, his dark glasses hide it well but Zira's certain he's eyes get big.

“I think... I did.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's here, finally, the story comes out.

Crowley takes his glasses off and scrubs at his eyes. When he takes his hand away Zira can see the confusion and frustration in his eyes.

He's probably been trying to remember anything about that night for the last ten years.

“So you went to paint, what happened?” The Dean keeps questioning.

“uhhhh...” He breathes, his eyes narrow.

“Take your time.” Zira says. “It's alright.”

“There's something. I just can't...” Crowley pressed the heels of his hands into this eyes. “It's right there... I went to the attic...”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight. “I climbed the stairs... they were narrow and worn and they creaked, they always creaked. I tried to be quiet, I didn't want to get in trouble with the matron.”

He's quiet for a moment, Zira and the Dean both hold their breath. Crowley keeps his eyes shut, his head tilts as his brow furrows. “There was a light.”

Zira let out a breath.

“Where?” The Dean presses on.

“In the attic, there was already a light. S s someone had a light burning.”

“Someone was up there?” Zira asks concerned.

The Dean focuses solely on Crowley. “Someone was in the attic but you went up anyway.”

  
“I was, I wasss curiouss... I've alwayss been too curious for my own good.”

“You're there, you're so close...” The Dean encourages. “you went up, who was there?”

Crowley's eyes stay shut, it almost looks painful to Zira. “S students... older sstudents...” Crowley swallows and grimaces, Zira can see he as he bites the end of his tongue like he's not happy with what it's doing. “I asked what they were doing... they weren't happy to s ssee me.”

“SHUT UP, just shut your stupid mouth.” The door joining the Dean's office to the conference room bursts open and Gabriel strides through red faced.

Zira jumps in his seat.

Crowley's eye's fly open.

He flinches back as Gabriel comes charging at him, pointing his finger and scowling.

Crowley's crutches start to slide from his chair where they've been propped.

Crowley tries to reach for them but his attention being split between them and Gabriel standing over him means he's too slow.

Zira is faster, he stops them sliding.

The sudden movement must have shifted Crowley's knee uncomfortable because he winces and holds it.

The Dean stands from her desk and with authority tells Gabriel to STOP.

He stops moving and turns back in surprise. The shocked look on his face makes it clear that he had no idea the Dean was back.

He morphs his expression into a sickeningly sweet smile as he faces her. “Dean! I just... we just, we heard and it was...”

Zira looks up to the transom above the door. Of course Gabriel could hear.

The doorway is quickly filling with others looking in, wanting to see what happening. Zira can hear the Assistant Dean urging them back to their seats.

Michael pushes their way into the office. “Stop trying to act Crowley, we've all decided you're finished here. Just like I told you.” Michael looks down their nose at him.

Crowley looks at the Dean with a despondent expression.

Zira almost wishes he'd put his glasses on so he wouldn't have to see the heart breaking look in his eyes.

“Thiss s is all because you were in the attic when I fell?”

“I told you to stop talking.” Gabriel says lowly.

“You don't get to tell anyone here to do anything!” Zira growls from the edge of his seat.

Gabriel gapes and glares and goes to open his mouth again.

“Gabriel refrain from saying whatever you plan to say next and do not tell anyone in my office what to do, I am the only one who is allowed to do that.” The Dean insists.

“Dean, you can't possibly believe any of this...” Michael gestures at Crowley.

“Michael, I choose who I believe and I think I've lost my faith in you.” The pointed look the Dean give Michael is icy. “You were obviously in that attic, what happened that night, come clean.”

Crowley puts his glasses back on with a shaky hand.

“Nothing happened...” Michael's conviction starts to crack under the Dean's gaze. “we were kids... just being rambunctious.”

The Dean leans forward putting her weight onto her desk as her eyes bore holes in Michael. “I welcomed you back to my school. I fought for you and your education after your childish transgressions. You said you would behave, that you were going to be model students. That didn't last long did it. I know the lot of you, you, Gabriel, and Beelzebub were doing something you should not have been doing in that attic that night. You've played innocent all these years... now you're trying to get one of my teachers fired. Because he might out you for a liar.”

“Was I pushed?” Crowley asks sincerely.

“Answer the question.” The Dean demands. Michael and Gabriel squirm.

“how dare you insinuate... do you know who I am?” Gabriel spouts defensively.

“It was Michael.” Beelzebub shrugs, the delivery more like the weather report than a witness account.

Zira isn't sure when they got into the room but he knows they've just rocked it. He looks from them to Michael to Crowley, shock is on everyone's face.

Gabriel rounds on them and Michael scoffs. “Beelzebub!” “Oh Lord!”

Beelzebub rolls their eyes. “I'm tired of this ham fisted attempt at deception. It has grown old. It was Michael, they pushed the twerp out of the attic. We were caught being disobedient little shits, doing things we shouldn't in the attic and Michael didn't want to get in trouble. The twerp was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“the wrong... wrong time.” Crowley voice catches in his throat.

Michael glares at Beelzebub and then turns her gaze on Crowley. “Why wouldn't you just leave.” They spit as they clench their fists. Zira wonders if they are talking about ten years ago in the attic or now.

“Fine, Yes, I pushed you, are you happy?” Michael throws up their hands. “You shouldn't have been in the attic, that was our spot. You shouldn't have seen us. I couldn't have you snitching. Gabriel's first instinct was to threaten you but I took action. I protected us. I was looking out for the future of our family.”

Zira does some quick math, Dagon and Sandalphon would have both already been born, Michael, Gabriel and Beelzebub had started early, like Crowley said, quite early. That must have been the transgression the Dean was talking about.

Crowley grips the armrest of his chair, the memories seem to come rushing back. “He had me by the collar, Gabriel held me at the top step's edge and I was scared... then I felt it, myself being pushed back, I was falling. It was a short drop, my left foot caught in the rung of the banister, there was a painful pop, I abruptly stopped falling and my head, must have... hit a step. everything went dark.”

Michael's voice is cold as they continue the story. “You dropped the rest of the way down like a rag doll. Arms and legs at odd angles. You looked broken laying half out of the doorway. I can still see it clear as day.” they have a haunted menacing look on their face.

The room is silent, everyone trying to wrap their heads around what has been admitted.

When Crowley speaks next his voice is quiet and strained.

Disbelief fills his words. “All the pain, nearly half my life. Because you thought you'd be expelled, for what? drinking? smoking on campus? You nearly killed me and... and now, what, you're trying to get me fired because you're afraid it would come out?”

Michael holds his gaze but offers nothing else.

The Dean steps around her desk and speaks with all her authority. “Michael, Gabriel, Beelzebub in Dean Etron's office now! Everyone else, if you have a legitimate concern please leave it in writing with the office assistant, if your concerns were tied to this subterfuge, thank you for coming in. We will be taking care of this presently.” She looks around the room, Zira does too, there are a lot of different expressions on a lot of different faces. “Dean Etron, if you would see everyone gets where they need to be.”

The Dean turns back to Crowley and then to Zira as the Assistant Dean herds everyone out. “I'll send Mary Sarah in with tea.” She says softly.

She leaves the room and closes the door behind her quietly.

The transom into the Assistant Dean's office closes a tic later, shut with a tool from the other office.

When they're alone Crowley lets out a shaky sigh. “I can't...” He looks lost.

“No of course not... that was, well, a lot.”

Zira sits quietly trying to give Crowley time to process and room to deal with it all without leaving. He doesn't want to leave him alone. Not now.

Zira is studying the painting on the wall behind the Dean's desk, it might be a Turner landscape, he isn't sure. He wonders if Crowley knows, when he hears a sound he doesn't expect.

Crowley is laughing.

It's a quiet chuckle with a bitter edge.

Zira doesn't know what to make of it. “Crowley?”

“Do you know what would happen if I wrote to my family and told them all this, Angel? That I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got pushed by an ill tempered upper classmate. That I wasn't broken by my own foolishness. Do you know what they'd say?”

“Crowley, I'm...” positive you shouldn't concern yourself with what they think. Zira thinks bitterly for Crowley.

“They'd say it must have been my fault, somehow... I'd literally somehow done it to myself.”

Crowley sniffles and drags his hand under his nose.

Zira wonders if the metaphorical floodgates are going to open and quickly offers his handkerchief.

Crowley takes it and fidgets with it, wringing it in his hands as he turns away.

Zira is sure he sees a tear on his cheek before he does. “Oh Crowley.” He breathes.

Zira gets up from his chair and puts a hand on Crowley's shoulder. He can feel Crowley trembling. “It's alright... not a soul would judge you for crying now, least of all me.”

Crowley turns and looks up at Zira, whatever he might have wanted to say catches in his throat and he instead throws his arms around Zira's waist.

He hugs tight like Zira is his only lifeline and presses his face into Zira's vest as the tears start to flow freely.

Zira is surprised at first when Crowley wraps his arms around him but quickly relaxes and stands there ready to offer his support. He puts a hand on the back of Crowley's head and his other hand rubs slow circles on his back. Zira speaks comforting words and after a time Crowley relaxes and his anguish quiets.

He moves, leting go of Zira slowly and looks up, his face is red and his eyes are likely puffy, Zira thinks. “ssorry...” He says in a small voice.

“Don't be.” Zira brushes Crowley's hair back from his glasses. “I said I wanted to help any way I could and that includes being a shoulder or... hum a stomach to cry on.”

Crowley makes a hissing noise, like he's unhappy with himself or what Zira has said, Zira doesn't know which.

Crowley sniffs again.

“You can use that handkerchief, my dear.”

Crowley looks down at it wrapped around his hand, and seems to consider it.

“I do have others.”

Zira doesn't want to keep stand over Crowley so he moves his chair so it's practically arm and arm with Crowley's and sits forward as he speaks.

“I... I wanted to tell you... I've been to the attic, I saw your painting.”  
  


Crowley's breath hitches.

Zira leans a little closer, he hopes Crowley can see the sincerity in his eyes. “It is a lovely painting. So much like the drawings in your journal.”

“How did you...”

“See it, oh, I had our resident student explorers show me, Adam and the lot.”

“oh, them.” Crowley sighs. “So, it's still there?”

“It's faded but it's still there.”

Crowley bites his lip and shakes his head.

“I was impressed, it looked like it was done by a professional, not a student. The stars still have a light to them, a liveliness that made them shine.”

That gets a small smile out of Crowley. “I... I always liked the stars.”

“I could tell.”

Zira is quiet for a minute, thinking, then he asks a question he's been meaning to.

“There were initials, they were hard to read, am I right in assuming they were A. J. R.?”

Crowley hums in acknowledgement as he leans back against the high back of the chair.

“What did the R. stand for?”

“Hum... it was my father's last name, Raphael.”

“Oh, oh well, that would be fitting for an artist.”

“... I suppose.”

“But you changed it, is Crowley your Stepfather's name?”

“No.” the reply comes quickly.

“Really? where did 'Crowley' come from then?”

Crowley rubs at an eye behind his glasses. “There was a letter dropped in the street, addressed to a Mr. Crowley. I dropped the letter in the post box and took the name because I liked it.”

“That's fascinating.” Zira hasn't heard of anyone taking their own name like that before, it's rather bold and brave he thinks.

Before he has a chance to ask about how he went about changing it and why he didn't care for his father's name, there's a knock on the door and Mary Sarah brings in tea and sandwiches.

She is followed by the Dean.

“Gentlemen, I have news.” The Dean says, rounding her desk to stand in front of them.

They both sit up at that. While Mary Sarah places the tray on the desk and excuses herself.

“Michael has admitted to pushing Crowley out of the attic and Gabriel and Beelzebub to knowing what happened and not being forthright. I would like your input on what to do about this.”

“Call the constable!” Zira says without hesitation.

The Dean nods but her expression is not as enthusiastic as Zira's suggestion. “I would if I thought it was something they would take any interest in, but the assault was ten years ago, I doubt they would be able to bring charges. Which leaves us with the decision of how to deal with this internally.”

“Nothing that's going to affect the children.” Crowley insists.

“I understand your concerns, but if I tell the parents they can't step foot on the campus again, that will impact the children.”

“I don't want anything to happen to the children, they didn't cause this.”

“Very well, but they need to face consequences.”

Crowley shrugs. “I don't know, can I sleep on it.”

“I'll give you some time, but I'll need to do something soon.”

Crowley nods.

“Shall I pour the tea?” Zira asks

“Yes, please do.” The Dean sits down at her desk. Zira has the feeling she is in nearly as much shock as Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was something... was it what you expected? I hope it gave some satisfaction. Did you know it was going to be Michael who did the pushing?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira navigates the day after the reveal. Emotions run high, things are still happening, the Them have heard things and want to know more. Crowley has visitors.

[the office hug drawing](https://mj-irl.tumblr.com/post/188544194052/slides-of-stars-chapter-20)

The next day there is a buzz on campus everyone has caught up on at least some part of the gossip.

It was no doubt spread by the parents from yesterday and possibly Mary Sarah from the office. Zira isn't sure, but he knows word has spread about what happened and what was learned.

He hears students and faculty speaking in close circles about Gabriel and Ligur and the professors who they argued with this weekend, about the parents who where trying to get Professor Crowley fired and that Professor Crowley was the student who fell out of the attic or rather... was pushed years ago.

Amazingly Zira doesn't hear any one mention Michael's name. They really must scare the pants off of some people.

It's the part about the attic that Adam and his friends are especially curious about when they get in the classroom.

Zira is doing his best to get things organized after missing the day yesterday when the children crowd around his desk.

He glances at them and says good morning as he tries to find his notes for the the day.

He expects the children to move to their seats. Instead they stay where they are and Adam asks in an uncertain voice. “did you know?”

Zira glances back up from the stack of papers he's trying to sort. “I'm sorry what? What was that?”

“Did you know it was Professor Crowley who fell from the Attic?” Adam asks.

The children all have hurt expressions on their faces like Zira has betrayed them somehow.

Zira sits back in his desk chair and shakes his head. “I only found out yesterday. I was being honest when I told you to stay out of the attic and that a student has fallen. I didn't know it was Professor Crowley, I couldn't even recall the student's name.”  
  
They look at him a bit skeptically. Pepper crosses her arms in front of her. Zira defends himself. “Professor Crowley, I think wasn't keen to let it be known it was him, he was badly injured when he... fell.”

“He was pushed, we heard that he was pushed.” Wensleydale clarifies. Zira feels a pain in his chest as he remembers Crowley's face when he finally heard the truth.

“What a rotten thing to do.” Pepper speaks up.

“Yes, that did come to light yesterday.” Zira doesn't elaborate any further. It was still all sinking in. He tries to turn the conversation in a happier direction. “Do you know what else came to light yesterday?” The students shake their heads. “It was Professor Crowley who painted the stars in the attic.”

“Noo, really?” Pepper's eyes get big.

Adam doesn't quite believe him. “You're being serious.”

“Yes”

“Wow.” Wensleydale seems impressed.

“Does he still paint?” Brian quirks his head and asks curiously.

“I don't know we'll have to ask him.” There were paintbrushes in his desk drawer, so maybe.

“But what about the initials?” Pepper was a sharp student. “The last one is definitely an R. and not a C.”

“Professor Crowley changed his name,” Zira explains. “That's one reason why I didn't recognize him from when we were in school together and why I couldn't find him in the year book when I was looking for him.”

“Why would he change his name?” Brian asks seriously.

“Was he a criminal or a spy?” Adam's imagination runs wild as usual.

“no, no, I think it was something very personal for him, I can't say for sure but maybe his name reminded him of bad memories.”

“Oh well that's alright then.” Adam nods.

Pepper is quiet for a second and then asks seriously. “Do you think Professor Crowley would like it if we made him a card?”

Zira is surprised, pleasantly so and smiles as the suggestion. “I think that's a splendid idea.”

Adam jumps in enthusiastically. “Yeah a 'sorry you got hurt this weekend and by falling out of the attic.' card”

Zira grimaces. “Maybe just some simple well wishes would be best.”

The children nod in agreement.

“We could get some others to sign it.” Brian suggests and they all start making plans.

“Take your seats now children, it's time class got started.” Zira stands from his desk and sends them to theirs.

During class Zira can see a piece of paper being passed back and forth between the children. Each one seems to add to it.

He pointedly ignores it and goes on with class.

* * *

At lunchtime he is starving and heads to the dining hall with the hope of grabbing something quick and heading to the infirmary to see Crowley.

He wraps a pie in a napkin so he can take it with him and is sticking a roll in his pocket when he hears a great deal of noise happening outside.

The rest of the dining hall hears it too, many of the students leave their seats and head to the windows to see what's happening.

Zira hurries to the door to peak out.

Ligur is out on the sidewalk, box in hand, shouting as he heads to the gates of the campus.

“You can't fire me, you'll be hearing from my solicitor.” He shouts at the buildings and over his shoulder as he keeps walking. “I never liked working here any how. Bunch of Stuck up bastards the lot of you.”

Zira's eyes get wide, he's got to go tell Crowley about this.

He hurries to the infirmary, food forgotten in his hand.

The nurse isn't at their desk, they might be at lunch it is that time.

Zira hurries back through the beds. As excited as he is he starts talking before he even clears the curtain. “Crowley, you'll never believe what I just saw.”

He steps past the curtain and stumbles to a stop, he quickly realizes he's made a mistake and stammers, flustered. “I, I'm sorry I didn't mean... I can, I will... I'll come back later...” He says but can't seem to get his feet moving. He can feel his face getting warm at the sight in front of him.

Crowley is sitting up on the bed in his shorts and undershirt, his legs stretch out in front of him bare except for the braces strapped to both.

Zira has walked in on something. There is an older man standing over Crowley with a stern look on his face. “Excuse me, who are you?”

“I'm... I'm... a friend.” Zira offers as an explanation as to why he's barged in so ungracefully. Still more times than not it's just been Crowley laying in bed when he's come around the curtain.

“Well go on, I'm in the middle of an examination.” The man shoos him away.

“Yes, of, of course.” Zira finally seems to get his brain to connect to his legs. He starts to back up.

Crowley recovers from his shock, though his ears are still red. “Zira, this shouldn't take much longer, should it Doctor Tyler?”

“Hum,” The man looks at his watch and seems to think. “I suppose there's only a few more things I'd like to check.”

Crowley's expression softens along with his voice. “You don't have to go, Zira, unless you want to.”

Zira isn't sure what to do for a second. This was something medical, Zira didn't want to be present for things that were meant to be private. But if the exam was nearly over maybe all the privatish stuff had been done. “If you're alright with company.”

Crowley nods, there's what Zira might characterize as a bashful look on his face as he does.

“Shall we get on with it?” Doctor Tyler says impatiently.

Crowley agrees.

Zira moves to stands at his side and watches. The bruise on his knee is a mix of purple and red with a bit of blue at the center. It looks awfully painful. Zira knows how hard he fell, he tries not to remember the painful keening.

The doctor eyes Zira, who offers a small almost apologetic smile, then get back to his examination. “Flex this ankle for me.”

Crowley does as he asks with one ankle and then as directed with the other as the doctor observes and feels different parts of Crowley's ankles “Good.” The doctor puts his fingers on particular parts of Crowley's left knee. “and again.”

Crowley hisses and balls his fists into the bedsheets.

Zira can't help but grimace and wring his hands.

The doctor doesn't seem phased by Crowley's reaction. “That shifting feeling in your knee here, is that typical in your experience?”

“Yes” Crowley says through his teeth.

“Alright,” The doctor jots something on a notepad on the bedside table. “How far can you bend your right knee?”

The doctor comes around the bed and helps support Crowley's leg up into a bent position. It's slow and takes Crowley some effort. Zira has seen him lift his legs up with his hands, it must either be painful or he doesn't have the strength he should, or both.

The doctor helps Crowley ease his leg back down to the bed and moves around to the other side.

Zira cringes with Crowley as the doctor has him move his sore leg up. He keeps his hands again under the leg to offer support but it's Crowley moving it. He doesn't get as far and is certainly in more pain.

Once it's flexed as far as Crowley can, the doctor feels the knee and observes it again. Crowley has his teeth gritted the whole time.

“Alright lets get this back.” Doctor Tyler helps Crowley gently moves his leg back down.

Crowley breathes out a shuttered breath through his nose.

Zira stands by, just trying to be a comforting presence.

The doctor feels at the muscles just above Crowley's knees and his thighs. He makes some more notes and then clears his throat. “I would say young man, you are quite lucky, all things considered. Your nurses's assessment was correct. Based on what you've told me about your experiences my opinion is that you've not damaged anything further. Just gotten bruised like the dickens.”

“That's good.” Zira sighs.

“Yes quite.” Doctor Tyler agrees. “I would like to see you, Mr. Crowley, for a follow up in a few weeks just to check up.”

Crowley seems hesitant to agree, Zira wonders how much a visit with the specialist costs. “I'll... I'll think about it.”

“Very well, let me know. You could make an appointment at my office or frankly I could be tempted to coming out here again. I do enjoy a trip to the country. I'll leave you my office information and of course the Dean has it.”

“Thank you Doctor.” Crowley releases his grip from the sheets and sits back against his pillows.

“These braces of yours are of an admirable design, I would like to get some pictures and take some notes about them some time, if you don't mind. You say that you've been using a just a cane regularly, for a while now?”

Crowley hums. “Now that it's gotten cold out... I don't have to use the cane much when the weather is warm except on bad days.”

Zira remembers the first time he saw Crowley and he came swaggering up and into his life.

The doctor shakes his head. “That's the thing about the weather isn't it... we can't all move to the tropics can we. Of course if we did we'd have to deal with things like malaria and hurricanes. I think I'll stick to England thank you very much. Now, I recommend you do the exercises we talked about and you don't go getting into anymore fight especially without your leg braces on.”

“Didn't mean to get into anything, it just kind of happened.” Crowley says under his breath.

“Yes well, do those exercises, they'll benefit your strength and mobility.”

“and hurt like Hell.”

“Yes well, you'll just have to get used to it. I know you're no stranger to pain young man, you live with it and you can live with those exercises and very honestly you will thank yourself when you're my age for doing them.” Doctor Tyler says his peace. “They won't do-away with your braces or cane but they will help improve the stability of your knees which would be a good thing... say, does the school have a pool?”

“no” Crowley and Zira answer.

“Too bad, that would be good exercise, water has been found to be beneficial to those with joint and leg pain.”

Zira thinks that is very interesting.

“Professor Crowley are you here?” A child's voice suddenly calls through the infirmary.

Crowley jumps and throws his dressing gown over his waist and legs as children's footsteps get closer.

Zira steps out around the privacy curtain and intercepts the students. “Good afternoon children.” It's them, Adam, Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale. “Shouldn't you be at lunch or in class?”

“We wanted to give Professor Crowley his card!” Adam says excitedly.

“Professor Crowley is busy at the moment I'm afraid, perhaps...”

“It's alright Zira, they can save me from the doctor.” Crowley calls and Zira can hear Doctor Tyler tutting.

The Children don't wait for Zira they run around the curtain. Zira follows and is relieved to see Crowley and the doctor got his blanket pulled up so Crowley is decent, wearing his dressing gown properly.

“A heard of Elephants.” Doctor Tyler is muttering as the children bound up to Crowley's bed. “This is an infirmary not a circus you know.” He chastises them as he collects his things.

“And who are you?” Pepper asks snidely.

“Pepper manners.” Crowley reminds her.

“Doctor R.P. Tyler, specialist in feet, ankles, knees and legs a speciality called podiatry.” He says proudly ss he collects his things

“That's something.” Pepper shrugs.

The doctor huffs. “I'll leave my report with the nurse.” He says and turns to leave.

Zira really does give him an apologetic look now. “Thank you Dr. Tyler.”

“How are you Professor?” Adam asks as the children crowd around the bed.

“Doing much better, what brings you here?”

Crowley likes children, Zira knows this to be true. Zira also knows that Crowley doesn't always think children like him. He seems a bit surprised to have a group of them at his bedside. Even ones he's seen and talked to quite a bit over the semester.

“We made you a card.” Brian produces a folded piece of paper with big stars and flowers on it from behind his back. “It says we're sorry you got hurt, we hope you convalesce quickly.”

“Convalesce was one of the vocabulary words Professor Phell gave us.” Wensleydale says matter of factly.

“We heard you got hurt this weekend and you were hurt when you were a student here.” Adam just had to bring that up. Zira rolls his eyes, internally.

Zira sees Crowley flinch at Adam's words, Zira should probably tell him about what the school has heard about yesterday when he gets the chance. So he's not blindsided again.

Crowley hides his grimace from the children well, masking with a smile.

“We drew on the card. We're none very good at it.” Pepper explains

Adam admits. “Brian's probably the best.”

“Do you still draw Professor Crowley?” Wensleydale asks.

“Professor Phell told us you did the painting in the attic.” Pepper interjects.

“Are you a proper artist?” Brian asks.

Crowley tries to keep up with all the kids “I wouldn't say that...”

“But you're really good...” Pepper states and the other kids agree.

Crowley shakes his head. “That was a long time ago. I'm out of practice.”

“Maybe you could teach us and practice at the same time.” Pepper suggests.

Crowley doesn't have a chance to respond before Adam jumps in excitedly. “Open the card. We got a bunch a people to sign it for you.”

Crowley opens the card and Pepper leans over to point. “There's Newt and Anathema, she wrote something sappy, Warlock signed down there... in the corner is Greasy Johnson but he needs to work on his handwriting because it's hard to read.”

Adam points out where he signed. “I wrote get better soon. You look pretty alright to me, will you be back in class soon?”

“I think so.” Based on what Doctor Tyler said, Zira thinks it's probably true.

“That's good.” The kids all agree with Adam.

“We hope you feel better soon Professor.” Wensleydale says quietly.

“Yeah and get out of the infirmary soon!” Brian adds loudly.

“Thank you. Hum, thank you for the card... ” Crowley starts, he nods and Zira steps up when it looks like his words catch in his throat.

“That was very kind of you children. Very thoughtful indeed. Why don't you run along now and get ready for your next class.”

“Alright Professor.”

“See you later Professor Phell.”

“Bye now Professor Crowley.”

“Feel better.”

The children head out like a herd of elephants just like they had entered.

When it's quiet, Crowley still holding the card but now practically hugging it to himself asks. “They did this for me?” with an air of disbelief.

Zira is so happy that they did, it's absolutely touched a chord with Crowley. “It was their idea, they asked me this morning what I thought. They certainly worked quickly to get that to you.”

“That's just, it's really...” His words catch in his throat again, and he gets quiet, thoughtful.

Nurse Uriel coming around the curtain with a tray with lunch breaks the silence. “What did you do to get that doctor so riled up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO as usual things got long and had to be broken up because I can deal with a 3000 word chapter but once it gets longer than that I've got to divide it. So we are nearing the end. Maybe one more chapter to wrap things up and then an Epilogue. I really think no more than two more chapters and an epilogue (I have been wrong in the past, but I think Ive figured this out.) 
> 
> Oh my I'm having series thoughts, other parts of the story I want to tell... I could be tempted. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and hanging in there with me!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about consequences, about future plans, and Hamlet quotes. Many things revealed.

Nurse Uriel coming around the curtain with a tray with lunch breaks the silence. “What did you do to get that doctor so riled up?”

“Had some students visit.” Crowley act nonchalant about it. Zira saw the surprise on his face before when the children came, he knows it was a big deal to Crowley.

Zira instinctually takes the card from Crowley and places it on the table for him while the nurse hands Crowley his tea.

“The students I just saw leaving? That makes sense, those four are a rambunctious lot. I've bandaged quite a few of their scraped knees. I, of course, reminded Dr. Tyler this is a 'school infirmary' he said that was no excuse for children running.” Uriel rolls their eyes. “That man needs to relax a little.”

“Yep probably.” Crowley agrees popping his 'Ps.'

“He did clear you, it looks like you're getting out of here.”

“good. I hope I never come back.” He smiles behind his tea cup.

“I hope you never come back too, you're a brat.” Uriel says with snark.

“Thank you.” Crowley says like he's been complimented.

“My pleasure...”

Zira is a bit befuddled, he doesn't understand the relation between these two exactly but he knows it works for them so he shakes his head and stays quiet.

“Did you hear about Mr. Ligur?” Uriel asks them both in a gossipy voice.

Zira jumps as if he's just been woken up. “Oh, oh I got distracted, I came to tell you...”

“What about Ligur.” Crowley's face gets pale.

“He left campus earlier today with his things.” Zira informs him.

“He's been fired.” Uriel clarifies.

“No” Crowley shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

“It's true.” Zira says, his eyes wide.

“Why? Because of me?” Crowley looks from one to the other in disbelief.

“No idea.” Uriel says and Zira shrugs.

“All I know is he was shouting when he left, he was not happy.”

* * *

Later Zira finishes up with the after school tutoring session.

Noticeably missing, both Sandalphon and Dagon. Zira wonders if they were in school at all today.

Warlock is quiet through the session as he often is but does speak up to ask about Crowley. Zira thinks the boy really must like working with Crowley, they seem to have bonded a bit.

When the time comes Zira sends all the students on their way and heads to Crowley's rooms, sure he wasted no time getting out of the infirmary.

He knocks and almost immediately, like he's been expected, he hears Crowley call for him to come in.

The door is unlocked and inside Zira finds the rooms dimly lit as they have been before.

Crowley turns in his seat at the desk with the little oil lamp to face Zira. He's in a dark blue sweater that Zira hasn't seen him in before. It looks comfy and Zira thinks the color is quite fetching on him.

“How does it feel to be home?” Zira asks cheerfully.

Crowley expression is not a cheerful one like Zira might have expected.

“It's... a relief, Angel. I was starting to worry.” Crowley rubs at his leg, his right Zira notes. He's probably sore after the doctor's exam today. “I wasn't sure if I was keeping my job, wasn't sure if I'd really hurt myself... I just,” He sighs. “it is good to be back.”

He stands from his seat slowly and steadies himself on the desk as he gets his crutches from their spot leaning against the wall.

  
He uses both crutches to cross the room to Zira, walking slowly. “So, should we raid the kitchen?”

“Ah well I am hungry but I'm not going to raid anything. Never again...” Zira shakes his head adamantly.

“You say never and yet I'm hearing, the next time there's a good bottle open, there's a good chance.” Crowley quirks an eyebrow slyly.

Zira crosses his arms and purses his lips. “No, and no. It made me anxious. Anyway, it's dinner time now, the staff is in the kitchen. Why don't you get some forks and things set out and I'll see if I can charm the kitchen staff... maybe even get us some cake this time.”

Zira manages to charm Mrs. Strathmore out of exactly one piece of cake. That's all she was willing to part with.

So they eat dinner at the small table in the dim light and share the cake.

Zira tries hard to keep himself from taking too much, it is very good and he saviors what he gets.

Crowley picks at the piece a little. He eats a couple bites and then puts his fork down declaring he's done. “you can have the rest.” he offers.

Zira smiles wide. “Oh well if you're sure.”

Crowley nods and rests he head on his hand as Zira eats happily.

They are enjoying the quiet and the company when they hear a knock at the far door. “Who could that be?” Crowley asks siting up suddenly. Zira can see the color drain from his face for a second time today. He seems to be on edge.

“I'll go see.” Zira offers and leaves Crowley sitting with a white knuckled grip on the table.

Zira answers the sitting room door cautiously. Then when he sees who it is who knocked he throws it open and welcomes her in.

Swinging his arm wide as he usher her past the threshold.

“Dean... um welcome, come in, Crowley is just in the...”

He's not in the kitchenette any longer apparently he couldn't let Zira face whoever was at the door alone. He's standing in the kitchenette doorway.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks politely.

The Dean smiles at him. “I have news from today and I came to see if you've thought any more about what consequences our Michael and their cohorts should face.”

Crowley inclines his head, his body language an indication he understands the serious nature of the visit. “Would you like to have a seat?” He gestures towards the sofa.

“Were you in the kitchen, I can join you.” She suggests.

Crowley nods and starts to move back.

Zira isn't sure where to be. “Should I... I could...” Zira looks back towards the kitchenette and his cake and then to his coat at the door.

Crowley with a serious look on his face puts Zira's questions to rest with a word. “stay.”

It's not a demand, it's a request, one Zira is happy to fulfull.

“Yes, Professor Phell do stay, I think we could use your input.” The Dean adds.

“I'll just get another chair.”

Zira grabs the chair from the desk. As he does he sees there are two things on the desk with the papers Crowley is grading. The journal and next to it the card the children made.

When Zira gets to the table the Dean has taken his chair opposite Crowley and has slid the cake in front of the open space between them.

“Please do finish.” She smiles at him as he slides his chair into place and takes a seat.

Crowley wastes no time waiting for Zira to get settle. “So Ligur?” He asks.

“He had to be let go.” The Dean answers as she sits ramrod straight in her chair, her hands clasped on the table in front of her.

“Because of what happened this weekend?” Zira asks.

“In part... firstly, today started with Michael and Gabriel coming to see me bright and early. They tried to appease me, apologizing. I told them that wasn't nearly enough after what they'd done. They of course wanted to know what is going to be asked of them to make amends. I told them that was being decided.”

Crowley nods. “so how does Ligur come in?”

“Gabriel confessed to paying Mr. Ligur to keep tabs on you and run you off if he could.” The Dean explains. “He was fired for conspiring against a staff member. I'll not have someone on my staff who doesn't have the best interests of the school at heart.”

Zira nearly chokes on his last bite of cake. “Oh my word. Really? They wanted to run Crowley off because Michael pushed him all those years ago.”

“Michael admitted today, that when they heard Professor Crowley had been hired and they realized who he was, they felt they needed to get rid of him.” The Dean faces Crowley. “They were afraid you remembered what happened that night and would tell everyone, they wanted you to leave or be fired or if that couldn't happen then to be discredited so no one would believe what you said.”

Crowley sighs, “Well, that makes a lot of things make sense. They thought I'd remembered that they'd pushed me and they wanted me gone.”

“That and the night you caught them in the attic the three of them had Professor Luther's test book and were making copies with the intent to cheat.”

“This was all about cheating?” Crowley puts his hands on his head and through his hair as he groans.

“I'm afraid so.” The Dean lets out a breath. “Too much money and not enough sense the lot of them. I welcomed them back to the school after the three of them scandalously had babies at sixteen. Apparently their idea of getting an education was stealing the tests.”

“Oh my goodness. That's... that's detestable.” Zira is appalled. “What does this mean for their degrees?”

“Not much, I could go through the process of revoking them on the grounds of misconduct but it really would mean little now that they've been out of school for ten years.”

Crowley is very quiet and then asks something Zira wouldn't have thought of in his wildest dreams. “Did they steal the book from Luther or did... did he know?”

Zira sucks in a breath. “That's a terrible think to ask about a faculty member here.”

The Dean is not so shocked. “I did ask him that myself, of course. He remains very tight lipped about the whole affair. We've come to an agreement. He'll be retiring after finals before Christmas.”

“Really?” Zira is shocked, shocked that he's leaving and shock at what it implies.

“I thought he was going to be here in perpetuity.” Crowley admits.

“We'll it's official, he'll be going.” Dean relaxes her posture a bit. “What do you think Professor Crowley, would you like to take over the astronomy courses or would you prefer to stay with Art History?”

“I...” Crowley lets it hang in the air as he thinks. That's a big decision as far as Zira is concerned. Crowley looks more interested in his hands than he does in answering the question. When he finally looks up he looks first at Zira and then at the Dean. “I think I'm enjoying Art History. I'd like to stick with it.”

“A fine choice, start thinking of some astronomy teachers you might recommend.”

“A new astronomy teacher and you have to bring in someone new for security. Lots of new people.” Crowley points out.

“Security should not be a problem. I have someone in mind at least in the interim.”

“and tell them to keep an eye on Hastur.” Zira says firmly and turns to Crowley. “I think... do you think? Could Hastur have been involved? He's done some rather suspicious things along with Ligur.”

The Dean narrows her eyes. “Mr. Hastur's name was not brought up.We can certainly look into him if you suspect him of something.”

Crowley shakes his head. “I'm not sure. He's pretty close with Ligur since we've been here, he may not have been paid by Gabriel, he may have just been following suit. I don't know maybe, keeping an eye on him would probably be good.”

“I will make a note of your concerns.” The Dean assures them. “Now to consequences. I am quite tempted to ban at very least Gabriel from campus. He was inappropriate confronting the two of you and he paid off one of my employees.”

“Ngk...” Crowley grimaces. “As much as I think Gabriel is a waste of space in a suit I still don't want to see the children impacted negatively.”

“What about a temporary ban.” The Dean suggests.

Zira's brow furrows. “That just doesn't seem like enough, they should be made to do something, even if they can't be punished by the law, they should be fined or have to serve the community here for what they've done in the past and recently.”

“We could put some of their money to good use, something to benefit the school and the students.” Crowley says quietly, a little unsure of his suggestion.

“What do you have in mind?” The Dean asks.

Crowley shrugs.

Zira thinks about it and has an idea, he can't help but blurt out he's so excited. “A Lift!”

“What?” Crowley looks at him like he's got a second head.

“A lift, a mechanical lift. To get to higher or lower floors of a building.” Zira says excitedly.

“I know what a lift is.” Crowley huffs. “I just didn't know what you said.”

Zira beams. “Michael and Gabriel and Beelzebub could have a lift put into the Academic building, that could benefit you and the students, anybody who couldn't take the stairs.”

The Dean sits forward in her seat. “That is an intriguing idea Professor Phell. A lift could be very useful for everyone, it would certainly help modernize the school.”

“Where would it go?” Crowley quirks an eyebrow. “I wouldn't want classroom space to be taken away.”

The Dean thinks. “We could always build out, add it on to the building. It would likely be more time and money but I'm sure it could be done.”

Zira clears his throat. “There might be a spot in the building that would work... there is an old staircase in the back hall in the academic building. It's blocked off, I think it must have been an old servant's stairs.”

“Really?” The Dean is surprised.

“Yes, you know the big old chair, that looks like it probably won't fit anywhere but in the hallway, it's hidden behind that...”

“Did those four find it?” Crowley asks knowingly.

“ah... They did, they are precocious.” Zira admits.

“Are these the rambunctious students that stormed the infirmary?” The Dean smiles.

“the same.” Crowley answers.

“I like them.”

“You would.” There's a smile in his voice.

She looks at him fondly. Zira sees a small smile break on Crowley's face.

“I spoke with Dr. Tyler today.” She tells him.

  
“Did you?”

“Yes...” She nods and shifts the topic back. Zira has noticed she does this, she does all things in her own time. “I think a lift in the Academic building is an excellent idea, Thank you for the suggestion Professor Phell. I will make some calls. Does that sound agreeable to Professor Crowley?”

“I...” He starts to agree but stops. “do, do you really think they'd do it, pay for a lift I mean?”

The Dean sits up straight again, a hard look in her eyes. “I think we are in a very good position to demand that they do and to insist they pay for any future medical costs that are directly related to your fall.”

“What?” Crowley is taken aback.

“Dr. Tyler told me he'd like to work with you, It is my opinion that Michael should pay for you to see him and any other expenses related to what they did to you.”

“is that possible?” Crowley breaths out, his head quirked to the side.

“I'll have my solicitors write up a binding agreement. I think it is well within reason. I'll see it done.” She is confident.

Crowley's face flushes. “What else did Dr. Tyler say?”

“He said that you were cleared to leave the infirmary and that he gave you homework... you will do your best with the exercises he showed you, won't you?”

“I'm going to... try...” He bites his lip, looking down and away from them as he admits. “We'll see. I really just want to get back to my normal right now.”

Zira winces sympathetically. He can understand Crowley not wanting to cause himself any more pain. “Dean, is there a pool in the area?”

“A swimming pool? Not that I know of, not close by, why?”

Zira narrows his eyes in thought. “Dr. Tyler said that a pool could be good exercise.”

Crowley shakes his head. “I can't see me getting in the water.”

“Really? I love the water.” Zira spouts.

“I, I was never a strong swimmer even before the accident.”

“I could show you. I grew up on the water. I come from a long line of fishermen from the South Downs.”

“That's something I'll keep in mind.” The Dean seems to make a mental note. Zira makes his own, he'll have to look into seeing if there are any swimming pools nearby.

“So I'm out of the infirmary, am I cleared to work, can I get back to my classes?”

The Dean's expression softens. “How about one more day, just to be safe, you can get back to work on Thursday.”

“uugh really? I'll go stir crazy.”

“Just take the day to get things in order and make sure you're in order.”

“I'm always in order.” He mumbles, not unlike a moody child.

“Young Mr. Crowley.” The Dean's tone is a warning but warm.

“Yes Dean, sorry,” Crowley looks bashful. “thank you for the day and... and for everything.”

“You are welcome my Dear, I am really so excited to have you here after all this time. I think with all this bad blood aired out now it will be a very good school year.” She looks at both of them in turn. “Have a good night Professors.”

“Thank you Dean.”

“I'll see you to the door.” Zira offers as she raises from her seat.

Outside the Dean's car and driver are waiting for her.

She turns back to him before she exits. “Thank you for your help Zira, I really am so glad you're here.”

He knows he's blushing, he can't do anything about it. “Have a good night Dean.”

She smiles warmly and steps out the door. Zira closes it when the Dean gets into her car.

He turns and finds Crowley back in the kitchenette doorway.

He's still got both crutches for support but he's putting weight on his left leg, just a bit like he's testing what he can take. “What do you think, do you thing Michael and the others will actually pay?” He seems to have doubts.

Zira steps back from the locked door, thinking as he walks across the floor. “I think the Dean considers this personal and if anyone could get it done, she certainly has given me the impression it's going to be her. Plus, if Michael and Gabriel want to keep their status at the school and in the community they'll pay up. I feel like she could, well... she could end them if they don't.”

Crowley is quiet.

Zira stands in front of him, curious and points to the journal on the desk. “Does what you wrote make more sense now, knowing what you know?”

Crowley rocks forward on his crutches and looks towards the desk. “It's good to know I wasn't totally out of my head. It actually makes some sense in the context I now know.” There's a bitter edge to his voice. “I dismissed it all as nonsense for so long, all the scribblings about falling and stars, references to others being there. It all seemed crazy. All anybody could tell me was that I fell from the attic... it's so strange to think about now. I didn't just fall, It wasn't just an accident, I was pushed.”

He looks at Zira, his dark lenses focused on the face in front of him. “It's like everything in my life is the result of something someone else did. So much has been out of my control. I feel like Hamlet, I didn't ask for the ghost to task me with revenge but here I am. I didn't ask to get pushed out of an attic. Hell, I didn't ask to be born from the unseemly union of a low class laborer and a London socialite. But that's dictated so much of how things in my life have gone.” He laments.

Zira understands. “We're all products of other people's decisions and unknowable happenstance. It's not for us to understand why. It's just the way the universe works. Sometimes we get dealt a bad hand.”

Crowley huffs.

Zira knows Crowley's had it bad, he would never deny that, but he's been through some things in his life too.

“I've often wondered what my life would have been like had my parents not died young.” He doesn't think about it much anymore but there was a time when he daydreamed about them constantly.

“It could have all been so different, it might have been wonderful, and maybe...maybe it wouldn't have been. There's no way to change what happened and see. All I can do, all we can do is accept that we can't control everything in our lives and keep moving forward.”

Crowley hangs his head and just so happens to be in the perfect position to rest his forehead on Zira's shoulder. “Though this be madness, yet there is method in't”

Zira huffs out a laugh and puts his arms around Crowley, silently claiming him as his own. “I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.”

Crowley chuckles at Zira's own Hamlet quote. Zira can feel him laughing in his arms. He also feels when Crowley's arms wrap around his middle and Crowley's face presses into his neck. He holds on as laughing turns to tears and resolves into hiccups.

All the confusion and fear, anger and relief pours out of Crowley.

Zira stands, holding on offering support and comfort, it's a roll he was made for and one he gladly takes on now.

Eventually Crowley calms and pulls back, neither of them are willing to completely break contact with the other yet, hands stay on backs and touching arms.

Crowley swipes one hand across his face brushing away stray tears. “Sorry... thanks. I didn't mean to soggy you again.”

“Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine with this arrangement, you can cry on my shoulder anytime.” Zira smiles.

“Don't tempt me, Angel.” Crowley sniffs and smiles.

“I'm quite certain I wouldn't know how, my dear.” Zira assures him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is that, except I do intend to write an Epilogue for this, I'm just deciding what it should be, the lift or lifts or pool or something different, either way this should end up being 23 out of 23, hopefully in the next week or so. But that's the story of how Professor Crowley and Professor Phell come together in this AU. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, Thank you for all your support! It's been a lot of fun.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a year later we follow Crowley to the second floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Epilogue that will hopefully satisfy some

August 1928

“So you close the door, close the gate. Push the button and the lift will go. Nothing to it.” One of the workman shows the Dean, the Assistant dean, and Crowley.

“And it just stops on the correct floor?” The assistant Dean asks.

“Correct Sir, you'll feel the lift come to the stop and a ding will sound when it's safe to open the gate. It's as easy as it could be.”

“It's amazing how they can be put into any building now.” Assistant Dean Etron remarks. 

Crowley stands back and watches the inspection. The lift is new and shiny and a bit out of place in the back hall of the academic building but he certainly thinks it is a beneficial addition. It'll be useful... it better be, all that had to go into getting it. 

“... Professor Crowley, would you like to ride with me?” The Dean is talking to him and he didn't realize it.

“Oh, hum, ah... yes Ma'am, course.” He steps up past the Assistant dean, and the workmen that look please with themselves and follows the Dean into the lift.

“Remember this gate gets closed after I close the outer door, then push this button Ma'am to get to the second floor.” The Dean nods at the man's instructions and then turns to Crowley “Do you have that?”

“Not my first time in one of these.”

She nods. 

“Very good, then at your leisure.” The man closes the outer door for them.

Crowley reaches out and closes the gate and pushes the button for the second floor. The lift shifts and then they feel it start to rise.

“Smooth...” He acknowledges. 

“Excellent. What do you think?”

“I'm amazed it got done.”

“I told you I would see it done.”

“You did, Thank you.” The Dean really did fight for this to happen, he appreciates the work she put in. 

“I think we'll look in to where else we could have lifts put in on campus.” 

He turns to her with surprise and sees she's entirely sincere. “wouldn't hurt.”

They feel the lift come to a stop and settle, there's a ding and Crowley opens the gate and the door.

“You know his room number?” She asks him knowingly. 

“Yes.” Crowley blushes.

“Very good, then I'll see you both at the faculty meeting.”

“Of course, wouldn't miss it.” He says just a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“I expect you there promptly.” She sounds like a all too put upon mother. 

“Yes, yes of course, won't be late.” He say a little too quickly. He shuts the door and can still hear her exasperated but, he's sure, amused sigh.

He chuckles to himself in the dark hallway. In two days classes will start and the building will be filled with students and teachers at this time and all lit up. This is the calm before the storm.

He's excited and anxious.

He's ready to get stated and at the same time feels like he's hopelessly unprepared for classes to start.

He's ready, he knows he is, it's just nerves. 

He looks around. This is his first time on the second floor since he was fourteen years old.

It looks very much the same and honestly it looks a lot like the first floor. He strolls down the hall, his footsteps and his cane echo on the wooden floor.

Today is a good day. Nothing is paining him too much this morning, he's not leaning much on his cane right now. If he was at home or in his classroom he'd leave the cane and go without, the leg braces giving him enough support for short familiar distances.

It's been warm, he often feels a bit better when it's warm out. He's enjoying it now before the autumn and the cold weather sets in.

He peeks in the classrooms he passes.

He finds the teachers lounge and fights the urge to put salt in the sugar dish. There was just no way to make sure the salt was used only by the math department or he'd be really tempted to do it. 

He'll have to think of some other prank to pull to get back at them.

Zira's room is up ahead. Crowley smiles, he can hear him singing to himself as he approaches the open door.

Peering in Crowley would know this was Zira's room even if he couldn't hear him and partially see him bobbing around in the closet in the back corner.

The room is open and bright, there are books on every surface that isn't a student desk. Plus the desks are in the much talked about semi circle set up. Crowley thinks it definitely stands out. He doesn't think he would ever do it in his classroom but it's very Zira.

Crowley leans against the doorframe and takes it all in.

Takes him in.

Crowley had jokingly called Zira 'Angel' at first but it was nothing if not appropriate. The man was a godsend in Crowley's life. Someone who cares. Someone he cares for. Crowley thinks the world of this funny, warm, strong, and handsome, don't forget handsome, literature professor.

At the moment he's shifting boxes around in the closet and humming to himself.

Crowley watches fondly for a minute, then calls across the room. “Finding anything good?”

Zira answers from the closet like it's the most natural thing in the world. It is... sort of, they talk all the time, just never here before.

“Oh yes, there are some interesting things, Professor Den was quite the packrat and that's saying something coming from...Crowley!”” Zira's blond head and big eyes pop out of the closet like an exclamation.

Crowley smiles at his sputtering. “How... what are... how did?” Realization dawns again. “The lift is finished?!”

“Yep.” Crowley pops the 'p' quite pleased to have surprised Zira. 

“Well how was it?” Zira comes across the room, eager expression on his face. Crowley stands up straight in the doorway.

“It was good, worked well, it's ready to go.”

“That's fantastic and just in time for classes.”

Crowley nods, the timing was good, they wouldn't have to deal with workman and construction noises while trying to teach.

“Did you see the faculty lounge? Professor Tracey's room is just around the corner... but where are my manners," He chastises himself. "come in.” Zira steps back and opens his arms to welcome Crowley in.

No sooner has Crowley stepped over the threshold than Zira takes his hand.

It surprises Crowley. Zira grabs his hand and leads him in.

Zira has never taken his hand before. They've never held hands.

  
His brain registers Zira leading him into the room and pointing out things but the only thing he can hear is his own heart pounding.

He follows Zira, the feeling of his hand in Zira's is a warm and welcomed sensation.

Suddenly Zira's grip tightens and shake Crowley's hand, prompting him to look up.

Zira is in front of him with a concerned look on his face. Crowley wonders what could be the matter.

“Are you alright, my dear, you're being very quiet? Do you need to sit down?”

Crowley blinks at the questions and shakes his head “ 'm fine...” He looks back down at their joined hands.

“Oh... oh, I'm sorry, in my excitement I...” Zira starts to let go but Crowley holds tight.

“No, I like it... I was just surprised.”

Zira blinks in surprise now. “Oh well, if you're alright...” He looks bashful but keeps holding Crowley's hand. “Come and see...”

Zira directs him over to the windows. He walks a half a step ahead of Crowley but keeps his pace so he's not going too fast even in his excitement.

Zira's got lots of things on on wide windowsills. There's a compass, hat and scarf, and books stacked and... Crowley stops short, keeping hold of Zira's hand so he stops too.

“What is going on here?” Crowley gestures to a small potted shamrock stuck between a stack of books and the window. It's half wilted.

Zira looks guilty. “I know it's in rough shape, It was in the classroom when I got here. I just don't have much luck with plants. I don't have a green thumb like you. I'm actually impressed it's lasted this long under my care.”

Crowley purses his lips, he hates to see a plant looking ragged especially when it's preventable. “Some new soil would help it. What's your watering schedule?”

Zira looks slightly more guilty, he grimaces. “Whenever I remember.”

Crowley dramatically groans. “No, Angel... shamrocks are pretty hardy but you have to water them regularly. They like lots of water.”

“Is that what that is, a shamrock?” Zira blinks his wide eyes like he had no idea. 

Crowley rolls his eyes. “... I'll see if I can get some soil to repot this.” he can't tell if Zira is playing dumb or if he really just doesn't know, either way Crowley's going to take care of it. The plant shouldn't have to suffer. 

“I think now that the lift is operational, you might need to make a point to come up here and check on... the shamrock.” Zira smiles an innocent smile and aims his big blue eyes at Crowley.

Crowley is not having it. “Do you really think you couldn't stick to a watering schedule.”

Zira chuckles. “I think it would be best if you came up... for the plant.” Zira leans closer to Crowley there's a softness in his voice and fondness in his eyes. His thumb starts to move along the back of Crowley's hand that he's holding.

Crowley takes a step back, suddenly unsure of what's happening. Zira straightens up, clearing his throat.

Crowley looks away bashfully. “I'll try to get up here to remind you about the plant.”

“Thank you my dear...” Zira nods, his voice squeaks a little. “hum... come and see what was in the closet.” Zira squeezes his hand reassuringly and leads him the rest of the way through the classroom.

There are boxes, books, a map all stacked on the floor after having been pulled from the closet.

“This is the first time I've attempted to clear this closet out. There's decades of stuff in here... I've found quills, literal feathers from a goose used for writing. They haven't been popular since my grandparents were our age, I think.” Zira holds up a feather and Crowley gazes at it like a relic.

“I'm glad we progressed passed those.”

“I suppose there's a charm to it and of course they were used of hundreds of years. Think of all the poor geese.”

“I don't think anyone has ever, in the history of the English language, uttered the words 'poor geese.'”

“Well if people were always plucking your feathers you'd be mean too.”

Zira puts the feathers down and looks around the shelves in the closet. “This is something I was going to bring to you.” Zira pulls a small box off a shelf and Crowley recognizes it as a box that holds slides.

Zira opens it and Crowley can see there are some slides and a folded piece of paper in the box.

“I glanced at them, I think they might interest you.” Zira holds the box out. Crowley takes it and hands his cane to Zira who takes it with practiced familiarity.

Crowley pulls the slides out one by one and holds them towards the windows to see. “Arena Chapel ceiling, Exeter Cathedral, Fra Angelico's Annunciation, Basilica of San Clemente, one of the Limbourg brothers manuscript pages...” He looks at Zira confused. “Why are all these up here and not with the school slide collection? I was looking for some of these last semester.”

“This was Professor Den's classroom I don't know if he had a lesson he was using them for... does the paper in the box say anything?”

Crowley takes it out and opens it up and scans it quickly, “oh...” he says quietly, his expression falls a bit and reads out loud for Zira who looks at him with concern again. “Theodosia, found these slides of stars for your artistically inclined student to see. ~ E. Den.”

Zira's expression turns to understanding. “They were for you... you think?”

“Yeah, I think so. I'll... I'll ask her but yeah.” He puts the note back in the box and closes it it. “I'll make sure they get back in the collection.”

“There's so really lovely ones.” Zira smiles at him, he loves that smile.

“yeah." He pushes bad memories aside and breathes in gathering himself. "we, hum... should probably start heading to the faculty meeting.”

“You're probably right. It's about that time.” Zira holds out his cane. “I'll take those.” He holds out his hand for the box. “Will you show me the lift?”

Crowley nods. “If you want.”'

“Yes, yes of course.” Zira's adament and Crowley perks up again.

They walk together down the hall. Zira points out this and that. Crowley can't help but smile at him. Zira is nothing if not enthusiastic and it's infectious. Crowley is definitely caught.

They walk the back hallway to the lift door. Crowley points at and pushes the button next to the door. “This button calls the lift to the floor you're on.” They wait a tic and there's a ding.

“That means it's here?” Zira looks to Crowley who nods. He opens the door and slides the gate back. Zira looks in curiously as Crowley steps into the lift.

“There's buttons here on the inside, once the door and the gate are closed you hit the button and the lift will go to the corresponding floor.”

Zira pokes his head in to see. “It's very impressive.” He comments sincerely.

“The Dean is thinking about having another put in.”

“That's wonderful.”

Crowley nods, it can't hurt.

Zira backs out. “I'll see yo down stairs then.”

“You can ride with me, if you want.”

“Really?” Zira seems surprised and exited. Crowley shifts over a bit.

“Oh yeah, it'll take two maybe even three people. It's not very big but the workmen have assured us it will take the weight.”

“Well then, I'd be happy to ride with you.” Zira steps in and closes the door behind him.

Crowley grabs the gate and slides it closed then hits the button for the first floor.

The lift shifts and Zira reacts, he's a bit awed and a bit startled. He reaches out and grabs Crowley's hand.

For the second time that day they are holding hands and Crowley can't believe it.

They've been circling around each other for months. Seeing how close they could sit and how long they could get away with touching knees or shoulders before the other backed off. Testing and prodding waiting for the other to set a boundary or push it further.

They were idiots.

Crowley knew that.

They'd been friends for a year now, best friends for almost as long, Crowley wants more, he thinks Zira must too but neither know how to just say it.

Crowley can feel his ears getting warm. He knows now is his chance to do something. He's been so unsure, so halting... but here with Zira stuck in this little moving box, just the two of them, Zira's hand in his.

His heart beats like a drum, his last braincell seizes and Crowley leans over and kisses Zira on the cheek.

It's quick and he pulls back.

Zira squeaks.

Crowley's eyes get big behind his glasses, he's shocked himself with what he did. He can't get his mouth to work and say 'I'm sorry' or 'I'm an idiot' or 'I love you' there's some sound coming out of his throat but he's fairly certain none of it is words.

“Oh Crowley.” The sweetest tone he's ever heard his name said in reaches his ears just as Zira reaches up a hand directing Crowley to dip his head. Then Zira's lips are on his.

He's shocked, shocked at first, unsure, but then the tension melts away and he leans into Zira's kiss.

It's all that he hoped and nothing like he's felt before.

When they break apart Zira's cheeks are as red as Crowley's feel.

Zira is smiling from ear to ear. “I've been waiting a long time to do that.” He sighs.

“... me too.” Crowley admits.

“Really?”

“Oh yes.”

“Since when?” Zira seems like he doesn't believe it. 

Crowley thinks “since... the conversation we had before going to the stupid bloody Fall Harvest dinner last year.”

“Really?” Zira's eyes are big and shocked. 

Crowley ducks his head, he's been pining a long time. He should have had the guts to do something sooner or pick up on Zira's signals, something.

“...Since the blasted bucket falling, and you helped me with my books.” Zira speaks up.

Crowley looks at him shocked. “No... thats...”

“Just as long.” Zira shakes his head. 

Crowley huffs out a laugh. 

“I do believe we've stopped moving.” Zira points out with a grin.

Crowley hums in agreement. He looks down at their once again joined hands. When did that happen? His heart warms. “How do you think we should move forward?”

Zira smirks at him. “More kissing, so much more kissing.”

“I agree, I like that. But here at work?”

Zira thinks “We can be discrete, though I don't think anyone will be surprised. Half of the staff probably already think we're courting... courting? Dating? Crowley are we dating?”

Crowley smiles, slyly and brings their hands up, he places a kiss on the back of Zira's. “Yes Angel, I believe we are.”

Zira's eyelashes flutter and he looks content. “What an excellent way to start the semester.”

Crowley places another kiss on his hand just to see Zira react and smiles. “It won't be so excellent if we're late to that meeting.” he coos.

“Oh, you're right. Dear, oh dear...” Zira opens the gate but stops before he gets to the door. “My Dear.” He says with emphasis and joy in every syllable as he turns back to Crowley and places another kiss on his lips and then smiling wickedly as Crowley's face flushes all over again. “I think this is going to be fun!”

“Oh you are terrible, Angel.” Crowley groans and prepares himself to follow the other Professor to the end of the Earth or where ever he leads.

* * *

Artwork for sale, kisses and blush [[Redbubble]](https://www.redbubble.com/people/mjfitz/works/42411992-kisses-and-blush?asc=u) [[Tumblr post]](https://mj-irl.tumblr.com/post/188989519312/kisses-and-blush-for-sale-art-for-fic-slides-of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not an Elevator expert. I did try to do my research. There is a Buster Keaton movie from 1921 that shows an elevator with a call button by the door but doesn't show the inside soooo I kinda guessed. 
> 
> Thank you so much for READING!!! Let me know what you LIKED!!!!! I so want to hear!!!!!! 
> 
> Stay tuned. I'm going to try and add to my other GO fic and I've got to write something for the gift exchange. But I've got some more ideas for this world so I think I'll be back.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slides of Stars is now a series! The first chapter in the next part is up   
Check out Zira's Panto

Slides of Stars is now a series! The first chapter in the next part is up 

“So, you know how there wasn't a panto last year...” Zira says with a causal air.

Crowley hums in acknowledgement.

“well I asked around. It turns out the school hasn't put one on in years. Can you believe that, they were always a high light right before the semester ended... So I...”

Crowley's shoulder's tense. Zira is behind Crowley so he's not seeing the look on his face but he can image Crowley's endearingly exasperated look of disbelief.

“No... no, you didn't, Angel, tell me you didn't...”

Panto: (In Britain) a funny musical play based on a traditional children's stories, performed especially at Christmas. (Dictionary.Cambridge.org)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments are as good as Crepes!!


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